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THE 



DYING HOURS 



GOOD AND BAD MEN 



CONTRASTED. 



'Tis immortality, — 'tis that alone, 

Amidst life's pains, abasements, emptiness, 

The soul can comfort, elevate, and fill. — Young. 



,^>" > 



EDITED BY D. P. KIDDER. -^ 




PUBLISHED BY LANE & TIPPETT, 

FOn THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL 
CHURCH, 200 MULBERRY-STREET. A 

li 

JOSEPH LONG KINO, PRINTER. 




<jfyW^ 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by 
G. LANE & C. B. TIPPETT, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern 
District of New-York. 






> 



7 ^ 



PREFACE. 



The object of this little volume is to 
place before the reader, at a glance, the 
dying hours of good and bad men ; and 
thereby to enable him to see more clearly 
the value of the Christian religion. " Re- 
ligion makes people die well," is a true 
saying, as the numerous testimonies in 
the following pages will show. Perhaps 
in no instance is the value of religion more 
fully exhibited, than it is in the final de- 
parture of the saints. Then, when every- 
thing else fails, we see what it can accom- 
plish. It 

** can make a dying bed 

Feel soft as downy pillows are, 
While on His breast I lean my head, 
And breathe my life out sweetly there." 

By beholding, too, the deathbed scenes 
of infidels and wicked men, we shall see 
the value of that religion which they have 



4 PREFACE. 

neglected and despised ; and for doing 
which they met a dreadful end. 

The last hours of men are frequently- 
referred to with great interest. Says Wil- 
liam Cowper, " Few things are more in- 
teresting than deathbed memoirs. They 
interest every reader, because they speak 
of a period at which all must arrive, and 
afford solid ground of encouragement to 
survivors to expect the same or similar 
support and comfort when they come to 
die! 

The author has received special advan- 
tage in preparing this little work, by con- 
sulting " The Power of Religion on the 
Mind in Retirement, Affliction, and at the 
Approach of Death ;'' " The Tree and its 
Fruits ;" and " Sprague's Sermons on 
Dying Hours " — works of great value, 
which should be extensively read. 

The following pages are particularly 
recommended to youth. That they may 
lead some to prepare to live and die right, 
is the hope and prayer of the author. 

Providence^ R. I., March, 1848. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

John Wesley 7 

Altamont 20 

John Fletcher 29 

George Spiadford 37 

An English Nobleman 43 

Cardinal Beaufort 49 

Thomas Taylor 51 

Bishop George 57 

Joseph Addison 61 

Voltaire 64 

David Hume 69 

George Eoberts 70 

John Howard 73 

Edward Payson 77 

George Pickering 80 

Thomas Paine 85 

Thomas Hobbes 87 

Francis Spira 89 

Wilbur Fisk 90 

John Dickens 95 

Jesse Lee 99 



> CONTENTS. 

Page 
Richard Hooker 101 

John Summerfield 106 

Edward Hyde Ill 

Elijah R. Sabin 115 

Earl of Chesterfield 118 

Peter Dean 120 

A Young Man 122 

Chloe 124 

Robert Bolton 126 

Sir Matthew Hale 127 

John Locke 127 

Isaac Watts 128 

James Heryey 129 

John I^jnox 130 

John Leland 131 

Samuel Walker 131 

Richard Baxter 132 

Thomas Scott 132 

Earl of Rochester 133 

John Holland 134 

Richard Watson 134 

Francis Aseury 135 

Freeborn Garrettson 13G 

D. M. Chandler 137 

Elizabeth Walbridgb 137 

Dying Sayings 140 



DYING HOURS. 



®l)e Het). 3o\)n tD^sUg 

Was born at Epworth, Lincolnshire, Eng- 
land, June 14th, 1703. He was early 
taught the principles of the Christian reli- 
gion. His father was a minister of the 
Established Church, and rector of Ep- 
worth — a man of superior learning and 
stern integrity. His mother, who princi- 
pally superintended his early education, 
was a woman of extraordinary sense and 
piety. 

His childhood and youth were remarka- 
ble. At the age of six and a half years the 
parsonage-house in which his father re- 
sided was burned ; and he escaped, almost 
miraculously, from perishing in the flames. 
Such was his seriousness and propriety 
of conduct, that, at the age of eight years, 
he was admitted to the sacrament of the 



8 DYING HOURS. 

Lord's supper. When eleven years old 
he was placed in the charier-house school, 
in London, where he made great progress 
in learning. At seventeen he was elected 
to Christ Church, Oxford ; and at twenty- 
one " he appeared the very sensible and 
acute collegian, possessed of a fine classi- 
cal taste, and the most libera] and manly 
sentiments." He was ordained deacon, 
September 19th, 1725, being twenty-two 
years of age. He continued in the minis- 
try sixty-five years, and was fifty-two years 
an itinerant preacher. 

" His attainments as a scholar — had he 
possessed no other distinction — would 
alone have entitled him to high respect. 
He was a critic in the Greek language ; 
and he both spoke and wrote Latin with 
remarkable fluency and correctness to the 
end of his life. At the university he 
studied Hebrew and Arabic. In Georgia 
he conducted public worship both in 
French and Italian : and he offered to 
render the same service, in their own 
tongue, to a regiment of Germans at New- 
castle upon Tyne, during the rebellion of 



DYING HOURS. 



1745. His skill in logic was proverbial, 
and must strike every one who reads 
either his practical or his controversial 
works. They present finer examples, il- 
lustrative of the prhiciples of this most 
useful art, than those of almost any other 
of our English authors. His correct and 
elegant literary taste; his readiness of ap- 
prehension ; his ability to comprehend and 
simplify the most abstruse and perplex 
subjects ; are manifest in the whole of his 
voluminous writings. There are many 
passages in his works which, for depth 
and justness of conception, and strength 
and beauty of expression, would not suf- 
fer from a comparison with the most ad- 
mired selections that the English language 
can furnish." 

He was a great lover of mankind. 
Says one of his biographers : — " The 
great purpose of his life was doing good. 
For this he relinquished all honor and 
preferment : to this he dedicated all the 
powers of body and mind. At all times, 
and in all places, in season and out of sea- 
son ; by gentleness, by terror, by argu- 



10 DYING HOURS. 

ment, by persuasion, by reason, by inte- 
rest, by every motive, and every induce- 
ment, he strove to turn men from the 
error of their ways, and awaken them to 
virtue and religion. To the bed of sick- 
ness, or the couch of prosperity ; to the 
prison, the hospital, the house of mourn- 
ing, or the house of feasting; wherever 
there was a friend to serve, or a soul to 
save, he readily repaired to administer as- 
sistance or advice, reproof or consolation. 
He thought no office too humiliating, no 
condescension too low, no undertaking 
too arduous, to reclaim the meanest of 
God's offspring. The souls of all men 
were equally precious in his sight, and 
the value of an immortal creature beyond 
all estimation. He penetrated the abodes 
of wretchedness and ignorance, to rescue 
the profligate from perdition. He com- 
municated light to those who sat in dark- 
ness and the shadoio of death. He changed 
the outcasts of society into useful mem- 
bers ; civilized even savages ; and filled 
those lips with prayer and praise that had 



DYING HOURS. 11 

been accustomed only to oaths and im- 
precations." 

The elegant and pious Cowper has ex- 
pressed many of his excellences in the 
following beautiful lines : — 

" O, I have seen (nor hope, perhaps, in vain, 
Ere life go down, to see such sights again) 
A veteran warrior, in the Christian field, 
Who never saw the sword he could not wield. 
Grave without dullness ; learned without pride ; 
Exact, but not precise ; though meek, keen-eyed. 
A man that could have foil'd, at their own play, 
A dozen would-be's of the modern day : 
Who, when occasion justified its use, 
Had wit as bright — as ready to produce ; 
Could fetch from records of an earlier age, 
Or from philosophy's enlighten'd page, 
His rich materials, and regale your ear 
With strains it was a privilege to hear. 
Yet, above all, his luxury supreme. 
And his chief glory, was the gospel theme : 
There he was copious as old Greece or Rome ; 
His happy eloquence seem'd there at home : 
Ambitious not to shine, or to excel ; 
But to treat justly what he loved so well." 

He wrote more, preached more, traveled 
more, and suffered more, than almost any 
other man who ever lived. His labors 



12 DYING HOURS. 

have been blessed beyond a parallel. He 
is properly called the founder of Method- 
ism. He was called a Methodist, by way 
of reproach, by a fellow of Merton Col- 
lege, 1729. He formed the first Metho- 
dist class, 1739, and died March 2d, 1791, 
leaving about three hundred itinerant, and 
one thousand local, preachers, and eighty 
thousand persons, in the societies under 
his care. Within about one hundred years, 
those known by his name, and who sub- 
scribe to the doctrines that he taught, have 
reached the number of nearly two mil- 
lions. Besides these, what vast numbers 
of his followers have gone to heaven 
during that period* and how many, who 
were brought to Christ through the instru- 
mentality of his spiritual children, have 
been, and are now, connected with other 
Christian churches ! 

As he was always ready to labor for 
his Master, so he was ready to die. " He 
continued in his work till the latter end of 
February, 1791, when his strength entirely 
failed ; and, after languishing a few days, 
during the whole of which he presented a 



DYING HOURS. 13 

most edifying example of holy cheerful- 
ness and resignation, he died on the 2d of 
March, in great peace. When the hand 
of death was upon him, he oftener than 
once repeated, and that with solemn em- 
phasis, the lines, — 

* I the chief of sinners am ; 
But Jesus died for me ;' 

and, as the result of that faith in the 
Lord Jesus, of which these words were 
the significant expression, he again and 
again exclaimed, ' The best of all is^ 
God is ivith us P How blessed thus to 
dieP' 

A few more of his dying sayings will 
show more fully his triumphant depart- 
ure. 

" Three days before he died, referring 
to an illness which he had in Bristol, in 
the year 1783, he says, ' My words then 
were, — 

" I the chief of sinners am ; 
But Jesus died for me." 

" One said, ' Is this the present lan- 
guage of your heart ? and do you feel as 



14 DYING HOURS. 

you then did ?' He replied, ' Yes :' when 
the same person repeated, — 

* Bold I approach th' eternal throne, 
And claim the crown through Christ, my own,' 

and then added, ' It is enough : He, our 
precious Immanuel, has purchased all.' 
He earnestly replied, ' He is all ! He is 
all!' 

" In the evening of the same day, while 
sitting in his chair, he said, ' How neces- 
sary it is for every one to be on the right 
foundation ! We must be justified by 
faith ; and then go on to perfection.' 

" On the next day he said, ' There is 
no way into the holiest but by the blood 
of Jesus ;' and referring to the text, ' Ye 
know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
that, though he was rich, yet for your sakes 
he became poor, that ye through his po- 
verty might be rich,' he emphatically said, 
' He is the foundation, the only founda- 
tion, and there is no other.' He also re- 
peated, three or four times in the space of 
a few hours, ' We have boldness to enter 
into the holiest by the blood of Jesus.' 



DYING HOURS. 15 

" On the day before his death, after a 
very restless night, he began to sing, — 

* All glory to God in the sky, 

And peace upon earth be restored ; 
O, Jesus, exalted on high. 

Appear our omnipotent Lord ! 

* Who, meanly in Bethlehem born. 

Didst stoop to redeem a lost race, 
Once more to thy creatures return, 

And reign in thy kingdom of grace. 

* O would st thou again be made known ; 

Again in thy Spirit descend. 
And set up, in each of thine own, 
A kingdom that never shall end ! 

* Thou only art able to bless, 

And make the glad nations obey. 
And bid the dire enmity cease. 

And bow the whole world to thy sway.'* 

Here his strength failed ; but, after lying 
still awhile, he called for a pen and ink. 
They were brought to him ; but his hand, 
which had been the means of conveying 
comfort and instruction to thousands, could 
no longer perform its office. ' Tell me,' 
said one, ' what you would say.' ' No- 
thing,' answered he, ' but that God is with 
us.^ In a little while he broke out in a 
manner which, considering his extreme 



16 DYING HOURS. 

weakness, astonished all present, in these 
words, — 

' I '11 praise my Maker while I 've breath, 
Arid, when my voice is lost in death, 

Praise shall employ my nobler powers : 
My days of praise shall ne'er be past. 
While life, and thought, and being, last. 

Or immortality endures. 

' Happy the man whose hopes rely 
On Israel's God : he made the sky. 

And earth, and seas, with all their train ; 
His truth for ever stands secure ; 
He saves th' oppress'd, he feeds the poor ; 

And none shall find his promise vain.' 

" During the same day, when he ap- 
peared to change for death, he said, with 
a weak voice, ' Lord, thou givest strength 
to those that can speak, and to those that 
cannot. Speak, Lord, to all our hearts, 
and let them know that thou loosest the 
tongue.' He then sung, — 

' To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
Who sweetly all agree ;' 

when his voice again failed. 

" Several friends being in the house, 
they were called into the room, and all 
kneeled down to pray ; when the fervor 



DYING HOURS. 17 

of his spirit was manifest to all present. 
In particular parts of the prayer his whole 
soal was engaged in such a manner as 
evidently showed how ardently he longed 
for the accomplishment of their united 
desires. When Mr. Broadbent prayed, 
that if God were about to take away their 
father to his eternal rest, he would con- 
tinue and increase his blessing upon the 
doctrine and discipline which he had long 
made his aged servant the means of pro- 
pagating and establishing in the world, an 
unusual degree of earnestness accompa- 
nied the loud Amen of the dying patriarch 
and saint. When they arose from their 
knees, he took hold of their hands, kindly 
saluted them, and said, ' Farewell ! fare- 
well !' 

" Some time after he strove to speak, 
but finding that the friends who were pre- 
sent could not understand him, he paused 
a little, and then, with all his remaining 
strength, cried out, ' The best of all is, 
God is with us,^ Lifting up his arm in 
token of victory, and raising his feeble 
voice in a holy triumph not to be expressed, 
2 



IS DYING HOURS. 

he again repeated, 'T/ie best of all isj God 
is loith us!' 

" When his parched lips were moistened, 
he devoutly repeated his usual thanksgiv- 
ing after meat ; — ' We thank thee, O Lord, 
for these, and all thy mercies. Bless the 
church and king ; and grant us truth and 
peace, through Jesus Christ our Lord, for 
ever and ever.' 

" In the course of the same day, at dif- 
ferent times, he said, ' He causeth his ser- 
vants to lie down in peace.' ' The clouds 
drop fatness.' ' The Lord is with us, the 
God of Jacob is our refuge.' 

' I'll praise — PU praise — ' 

''The next morning the closing scene 
drew near. Joseph Bradford, his faithful 
and well-tried friend, prayed with him, 
and the last Vv^ord he was heard to utter 
w^as, ' Farewell I' While several of his 
friends were kneeling round his bed, with- 
out a groan, this man of God, this beloved 
pastor of thousands, entered into the 'joy 
of his Lord.' " 

Thus died the immortal Wesley. Sure- 



DYING HOURS. 19 

ly his end was peace ! Having been a 
blessing to thousands, and having erected 
an imperishable monument to his piety, fi- 
delity, and success, he triumphantly passed 
to his reward. Blessed man ! whom the 
world now delight to honor ; thou hast 
entered thy Master's joy ; thou art crowned 
in the heavenly paradise ! 

*' Happy soul, thy days are ended, 

All thy mourning days below ; 
Go, by angel guards attended, 

To the sight of Jesus go. 
Waiting to receive thy spirit, 

Lo ! the Saviour stands above ; 
Shows the purchase of his merit. 

Reaches out the crown of love." 

The Christian religion only can give us 
victory in death. Infidelity leaves its sup- 
porters in the last hour unprotected and 
in despair. Of this its fearful records fur- 
nish abundant proof. 



20 DYING HOURS. 



;:^ 1 1 a m n t. 

The following graphic description of the 
death-bed scene of an infidel is from the 
pen of the celebrated Dr. Young : — 

" The sad evening before the death of 
the noble Altamont, I was with him. No 
other one was present but his physician, 
and an intimate friend whom he lovedy 
and whom he had ruined. At my coming 
in, he said, ' You and the physician are 
come too late. I have neither life nor 
hope. You both aim at miracles. You 
would raise the dead !' 

" Heaven, I said, was merciful — 
" ' Or I could not have been thus guilty. 
What has it done to bless and save me ? 
I have been too strong for Omnipotence ! 
I plucked down ruin.' 

" I said, ' The blessed Redeemer, — 
"' Hold! hold! you wound me! This 
is the rock on which I split ; I denied 
his name.' 

" Refusing to hear anything from me, 
or take anything from the physician, he 



DYING HOURS. 21 

lay silent, as far as sudden darts of pain 
would permit, till the clock struck ; then, 
with vehemence, he cried out, ' O time ! 
time ! It is fit thou shouldst strike thy mur- 
derer to the heart. How thou art fled for 
ever ! A month ! O for a single week ! 
I ask not for years ; though an age were 
too little for the much I have to do.' 

" On my saying, we could not do too 
much ; that heaven was a blessed place — 

"'So much the worse. 'Tis lost! 'tis 
lost ! Heaven is to me the severest part of 
hell!' 

" Soon after, I proposed prayer. 

" ' Pray, you that can. I never prayed. 
I cannot pray ; nor need I. Is not heaven 
on my side already ? It closes with my 
conscience. Its severest strokes but se- 
cond my own.' 

" His friend being much touched, even 
to tears, at this, (who could forbear? I 
could not,) with a most affectionate look, 
he said, ' Keep those tears for thyself. I 
have undone thee. Dost thou weep for 
me ? That 's cruel. What can pain me 
more ?' 



22 DYING HOURS. 

" Here his friend, too much affected, 
would have left him. 

" ' No, stay. Thou still mayest hope. 
Therefore hear me. How madly have I 
talked: how madly hast thou listened and 
believed ! But look on my present state 
as a full answer to thee and to myself. 
This body is all weakness and pain ; but 
my soul, as if strung up by torment to 
greater strength and spirit, is full powerful 
to reason ; full mighty to suffer. And that 
which thus triumphs in the jaws of mor- 
tality is doubtless immortal. And, as for 
a Deity, nothing less than an Almighty 
could inflict what I feel.' 

" I was about to congratulate this pas- 
sive, involuntary confessor, on his asserting 
the two prime articles of his present belief, 
extorted by the rack of nature ; when he 
thus, very passionately, said : — 

"'No, no! let me speak on. I have 
not long to speak. My much injured 
friend, my soul, as my body, lies in ruins — 
in scattered fragments of broken thought. 
Remorse for the past throws my thoughts 
on the future. Worse dread of the future 



DYING HOURS. 23 

strikes it back on the past. I turn, and 
turn, and find no ray. Didst thou feel 
half the mountain that is on me, thou 
wouldst struggle with the martyr for his 
stake, and bless Heaven for the flames : 
that is not an everlasting flame ; that is 
not an unquenchable fire.' 

" How were we struck ! Yet, soon af- 
ter, still more. With what an eye of dis- 
traction, what a face of despair, he cried 
out, — 

" ' My principles have poisoned my 
friend; my extravagance has beggared 
my boy ; my unkindness has murdered 
my wife ! And is there another hell ? O, 
thou blasphemed and indulgent Lord God! 
hell itself is a refuge, if it hide me from 
thy frown.' 

" Soon after, his understanding failed. 
His terrified imagination uttered horrors 
not to be repeated, or ever forgotten. And 
ere the sun arose, the gay, young, noble, 
ingenious, accomplished, and most wretch- 
ed Altamont expired." 

O the horror of such a death ! It is 
dreadful to contemplate. Who does not 



24 DYING HOURS. 

dread even the thought of thus passing 
into eternity? O infidelity ! is this all that 
thou canst do for thy votaries ? Is this thy 
treatment in the last moments of life ? 

Had it not been for infidelity, the life 
and death of this noble youth would have 
been far different. Dr. Young well ob- 
serves, " His transient morning might have 
been the dawn of an immortal day. His 
name might have been gloriously enrolled 
in the records of eternity. His memory 
might have left a sweet fragrance behind 
it, grateful to surviving friends, and salu- 
tary to succeeding generations. With 
what capacity was he endowed! With 
what advantages for being greatly good ! 
But, with the talents of an angel, a man 
may be a fool." 

Other instances of the dreadful resuhs 
of infidelity, as exhibited in death, might 
be given. Mr. Hervey has given one of 
which he was an eye-witness. It is as 
follows : — 

" I was not long since called to visit a 
poor gentleman, ere while of the most robust 
body, and of the gayest temper I ever 



DYING HOURS. 25 

knew. But when I visited him, O how 
was the glory departed from him ! I found 
him no more that sprightly and vivacious 
son of joy which he used to be ; but, lan- 
guishing, pining away, and withering, un- 
der the chastising hand of God. His 
limbs feeble and trembling ; his counte- 
nance forlorn and ghastly; and the little 
breath he had left sobbed out in sorrow- 
ful sighs. His body hastening apace to 
the dust, to lodge in the silent grave, the 
land of darkness and desolation. His 
soul just going to God who gave it; pre- 
paring itself to wing away to its long home^ 
to enter upon an unchangeable and eternal 
state. When I had entered his chamber, 
and had seated myself on his bed, he first 
cast a most wishful look upon me, and 
then began as he was able to speak, ' O 
that I had been wise! that I had known 
this, that I had considered my latter end. 

Ah ! Mr. — , death is knocking at my 

door; and in a few hours more I shall 
draw my last gasp ; and then judgment — 
the tremendous judgment! How shall I 
appear, unprepared as I am, before the 



26 DYING HOURS. 

all-knowing and omnipotent God ? How 
shall I endure the day of his coming ?' 

" When I mentioned, among other things, 
that strict holiness which he had formerly 
so slightly esteemed, he replied, with a 
hasty eagerness, ' O, that holiness is the 
only thing I now long for. I have not 
words to tell you how highly I value it. 
I would gladly part with all my estate, 
large as it is, or a world, to obtain it. 
Now my benighted eyes are enlightened: 
I clearly discern the things that are excel- 
lent What is there in the place whither 
I am going but God ? or what is there to 
be desired on earth but religion ?' ' But if 
this God should restore you to health,' said 
I, ' think you that you should alter your 
former course V ' I call heaven and earth 
to witness,' said he, ' I would labor for 
holiness as I shall soon labor for life. As 
for riches and pleasures, and the appli- 
ances of men, I count them as dross, no 
more to my happiness than the feathers 
that lie on the floor. O, if the righteous 
Judge would try me once more! if he 
would but reprieve, and spare me a little 



DYING HOURS. 27 

longer ; in what a spirit would I spend the 
remainder of my days ! I would know 
no other business, aim at no other end, 
than perfecting myself in holiness. What- 
ever contributed to that — every means of 
grace, every opportunity of spiritual im- 
provement — should be dearer to me than 
thousands of gold and silver. But, alas ! 
why do I amuse myself with fond imagi- 
nations ? The best resolutions are now 
insignificant, because they are too late. 
The day in which I should have worked 
is over and gone, and I see a sad, horrid 
night, approaching, bringing with it the 
blackness of darkness for ever! Hereto- 
fore — woe is me ! — when God called, I re- 
fused; when he invited, I was one of 
them that made excuse. Now, therefore, 
I receive the reward of my deeds : fearful- 
ness and trembling are come upon me : I 
smart, I am in sore anguish already, and 
yet this is but the beginning of sorrows ! 
It doth not yet appear what I shall be ; 
but sure I shall be ruined, undone, and 
destroyed with an everlasting destruction !' 
" This sad scene I saw with mine eyes ; 



28 DYING HOURS. 

these words, and many more equally affect- 
ing, I heard with mine ears : and soon after 
attended the unhappy man to his tomb." 

We may inquire, Is this the way infi- 
dels die ? So it seems. How differently 
does the Christian die 1 Wesley exclaim- 
ed, '' The best of all is, God is with us P^ 
And Paul said, " I am now ready to be 
offered, and the time of my departure is 
at hand. I have fought a good fight, I 
have finished my course, I have kept the 
faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me 
a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, 
the righteous Judge, shall give me at that 
day ; and not to me only, but unto all them 
also that love his appearing." The Chris- 
tian often rejoices in prospect of death. 
He often longs "to depart and be with 
Christ ;"— 

" O ! how I long to quit this mortal shore, 
And in those boundless regions to explore 
New scenes of wonder, glorious and sublime, 
Where rising prospects with new beauties shine ; 
To see my Saviour, clasp his godlike feet, 
Veil'd in silence near his flaming seat ; 
Behold his pierced side which bled so free, 
And view the wounds which once he bore for me." 



DYING HOURS. 29 



H^t). 3o\}n Iktt\)tv 

Was born in Switzerland, September 12, 
1729. He was brought to a knowledge 
of salvation through the instrumentality of 
the Methodists in England ; and continued 
to the last in intimate connection with 
them. He was a faithful and tried friend 
of Mr. Wesley, and ably defended his 
sentiments. Next to the founder oi 
Methodism, he was the ablest advocate of 
the Methodist doctrines ; and his contro- 
versial writings, which are somewhat ex- 
tensive, are now considered a rich legacy 
to the church. 

He was one of the holiest men that ever 
lived. Whatever he did seemed to evince 
a pure heart and a holy life. In the con- 
troversies in which he actively engaged, 
every line that he penned seemed to bear 
the impress that it flowed from a heart 
filled with love. Another such a contro- 
versialist has scarcely been known since. 
His life in all respects was a life of purity; 
and but few, it is believed, since his Mas- 



80 DYING HOURS. 

ter " tabernacled among us," have so fully 
followed his example, " in going about 
doing good." Mr. Wesley makes the fol- 
lowing statement respecting him : — 

" I was intimately acquainted with him 
for above thirty years ; I conversed with 
him morning, noon, and night, without the 
least reserve, during a journey of many 
hundred miles ; and, in all that lime, I 
never heard him speak one improper word, 
nor saw him do an improper action. 
Many exemplary men 1 have known, holy 
in heart and life, within fourscore years ; 
but one equal to him I have not known — 
one so inwardly and outwardly devoted 
to God. So unblamable a character in 
every respect I have not found either in 
Europe or America ; and I scarcely expect 
to find another such on this side of eter- 
nity." 

He preached the gospel twenty-five 
years in Madeley, England, with great 
fidelity and success, and then went to his 
reward. There is something peculiarly 
striking and touching in the circumstances 
of his death. His last hours were remark- 



DYING HOURS. 31 

able for the power of religion which they 
exhibited. Perhaps I cannot better bring 
the circumstances of his death before the 
youthful reader, than by referring to the 
account given of them by his excellent 
companion, Mrs. Fletcher. 

The sabbath previous to his death, he 
attended church, and administered the sa- 
crament to more than two hundred com- 
municants. The manner in which he com- 
menced the services was truly affecting. 
He walked up to the communion table 
with these words : " I am going to throw 
myself under the wings of the cherubim, 
before the mercy-seat." The people were 
much affected, while they beheld him 
offering up the last remains of a life that 
had been lavishly spent in their service. 
Groans and tears were on every side. He 
became much exhausted, and was under 
the necessity of resting, at times, by lean- 
ing on the sacramental table. He, how- 
ever, succeeded in going through with the 
exercises of the occasion, interspersing 
them with affectionate exhortations, and 
frequently calling on the people to sing 



32 DYING HOURS. 

appropriate hymns. It was a memorable 
season. 

He retired from the scene to his cham- 
ber, where he soon met the *' last enemy." 
Mrs. Fletcher, fearful that his end was 
near, asked him several questions, all of 
which he readily answered. 

*' On Wednesday," says Mrs. Fletcher, 
^' he told me he had received such a mani- 
festation of the full meaning of the words, 
^God is love^^ as he was unable to express. 
' It fills my heart,' said he, ' every mo- 
ment: O Polly, [Mrs. Fletcher's given 
name,] God is love! Shout! Shout 
aloud ! I want a gust of praise to go to 
the ends of the earth I But it seems as if 
I could not speak much longer. Let us 
fix on a sign between ourselves. Now,' 
said he, tapping me twice with his finger, 
' I mean God is love.' " Thus did the 
dying saint wish to express that God was 
love, when unable to speak. 

He continued rapidly to fail. But while 
his strength permitted, he would converse 
on the subject of religion. He felt a great 
interest for the spiritual welfare of his fa- 



■ 

I 



DYING HOURS. 33 

mily physician. " O, sir,'' said he, " you 
take much thought for my body ; permit 
me to take thought for your soul." When 
so weak as to be unable, as was supposed, 
to speak aloud, on Mrs. Fletcher's repeat- 
ing the words " God is love .'" instantly, as 
if all his powers were awakened, he broke 
out in a rapture, "God is love ! love! love! 
O for that gust of praise ! I want to 
sound !'' Here his voice failed. His pain 
was extreme ; but he bore it with patience. 
If his sufferings were but named to him, 
he would smile and make the sign. 

He always took a peculiar delight in 
these lines, — 

" Jesus' blood, through earth and skies, 
Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries ;" 

and whenever Mrs. Fletcher repeated 
them, he would answer, " Boundless ! 
boundless ! boundless !'' and when it be- 
came extremely difficult for him to articu- 
late, he exclaimed, 

" Mercy's full power I soon shall prove, 
Loved with an everlasting love." 

His end now appeared to be near. Says 

Mrs. Fletcher, " I perceived him dying 
3 



34 DYING HOUBS. 

very fast. His fingers could hardly make 
the sign, which he scarce ever forgot, and 
his speech seemed quite gone. • I said. My 
dear creature, I ask not for myself — I 
knoiu thy soul — but for the sake of others ; 
if Jesus be very present with thee, lift up 
thy right hand.' Immediately he did. ' If 
the prospect of glory sweetly opens before 
thee, repeat the sign.' He instantly raised 
it again, and in half a minute a second 
time. He then drew it up, as if he would 
reach the top of the bed. After this his 
hands moved no more. On my saying, 
'Art thou in pain V he answered, ' No.' 
From this time he lay in a kind of sleep, 
though with his eyes open and fixed. For 
the most part he sat upright against pil- 
lows, with his head a little reclining to one 
side. And so remarkably composed, yea 
triumphant, was his countenance, that the 
least trace of death was scarcely discerni- 
ble in it. Eighteen hours he was in this 
situation, breathing like a person in a com- 
mon sleep. About thirty-five minutes past 
ten, on Sunday night, August 14th, his 



DYING HOURS. 35 

precious soul entered into the joy of his 
Lord, without a struggle or groan, in the 
fifty-sixth year of his age." 

The following lines, applicable to him, 
were written by Mr. Charles Wesley, on 
the death of one of his friends : — 

" With poverty of spirit bless'd, 
Rest, happy saint, in Jesus rest ; 
A sinner saved, through grace forgiven, 
Redeem'd from earth, to reign in heaven ! 

" Thy labors of unwearied love. 
By thee forgot, are crown'd above ; 
Crown'd, through the mercy of thy Lord, 
With a free, full, immense reward !" 

Who would not die like Fletcher, and 
have his last end like his ? Like his friend, 
brother, and fellow-laborer, Mr. Wes- 
ley, he died in Christian triumph. The 
following beautiful lines were written, 
after reading his Life ; and they are so ex- 
pressive of the feeling and desire which, I 
trust, the reader has experienced in perus- 
ing the above account of his triumphant 
exit, that I cannot but present them to his 
consideration : — 



36 DYING HOURS. 

*' Departed saint ! as here I trace 

Thy pure, devoted love, 
Thy growth in every Christian grace, 

Imparted from above ; 
Thy deep humility, thy faith, 

Thy charity, thy zeal, 
Thy active life, thy peaceful death— 

These to my heart appeal. 

" Delight and shame at once they vsrake — 

With low, yet pleading tone ; 
The first excited for thy sake. 

The latter for ray own. 
I can but see how brightly clear 

Thy lamp was wont to shine : 
I can but think, with grief and fear, 

How dim and faint is mine. 

" Yet the same Lord for both has died, 

For both has ris'n again ; 
The light which was thy guard and guide 

Would make my pathway plain. 
O for faith, hope, and love, like thine. 

That I might follow thee : 
Saviour ! thy power is still divine, 

Display thy power for me !" 



DYING HOURS. 37 



Hex). George JSIjairforlr. 

The Rev. George Shadford was born in 
England, Lincolnshire, January 19, 1739. 
At an early age he became a subject of 
converting grace. He united himself with 
the Methodists, and feeling it his duty to 
preach the gospel, he unreservedly gave 
himself up to that great work. After la- 
boring for about six years successfully in 
different parts of England, he came as a 
missionary to America. He landed in 
Philadelphia, and immediately entered 
upon the work of his mission. His labors 
were greatly owned of God in the salva- 
tion of souls. Many were brought to 
Christ by his instrumentality in New-Jer- 
sey, New- York, Baltimore, and Virginia. 
In the latter place he gives the following 
account of one of the converts : " Among 
these was a dancing-master, who came 
first to hear on a week day, dressed in 
scarlet ; and came several miles again on 
Sunday, dressed in green. After preach- 
ing he spoke to me, and asked, if I could 



38 DYING HOURS. 

come to the place where he lived, some 
day in the week. I told him, I could not, 
as I was engaged every day. I saw him 
again at preaching that week, and another 
man of his profession. When going to 
preaching one morning, a friend said to 
me, ' Mr. Shadford, you spoiled a fine 
dancing-master last week. He was so 
affected under the preaching, and feels 
such a load of sin upon his conscience, 
that he moves very heavily ; he cannot 
shake his heels at all. He had a profitable 
school, but has given it up, and is de- 
termined to dance no more.' I said, ' It is 
very well ; what is his name V He said, 
' He is called Madcap P I said, ' A very 
proper name for a dancing-master.' But 
I found this was only a nick-name, for his 
real name was Metcalf. He joined our 
society, found the guilt and load of his 
sin removed from his conscience, and the 
pardoning love of God shed abroad in his 
heart. He lived six or seven years after, 
and died a great witness for God, having 
been one of the most devoted men in our 
connection." 



DYING HOURS. 39 

He was called to suffer much for his 
Master. In one instance, while on his 
way to Maryland, he came near perishing 
with the cold. He says, " I was one night 
lost in the woods. Being in the winter, it 
was very cold, and the snow a foot deep. 
I could find no house, nor see any traveler, 
and I knew I must perish if I continued 
there all night. I alighted from my horse, 
kneeled upon the snow, and prayed ear- 
nestly to God to direct me. When I arose, 
I believed help would come. I stood 
listening a short time, and at last heard a 
dog bark at a distance ; following the 
sound, after some time I found a house." 

Owing to certain political difficulties 
which existed in the country at this time, 
Mr. Shadford felt it his duty to return to 
England, where he continued to labor, as 
his health would permit, till the close of 
life. 

His afflictions were great. He was de- 
prived of his eyesight for several years. 
During this time he was patient and use- 
ful. His sight was restored by a surgical 
operation. When it was said to him, 



40 DYIXG HOURS. 

" Now you will have the pleasure of see- 
ing to use your knife and fork," he replied, 
" I shall have a greater pleasure, that of 
seeing to read my Bible." This luxury 
he enjoyed ; for when he was permitted to 
use his sight, the first thing he did, was to 
read the word of life for three hours — 
reading and weeping with inexpressible 

joy- 

His health gradually declined for some 
time before his death. Being unusally ill, 
one of his friends called to see him. He 
says, " I inquired about his health ; when 
he said, with great fervor, — 

' To patient faith the prize is sure ; 
And all that to the end endure 
The cross, shall wear the crown.' 

His mind seemed fully occupied with the 
great and interesting realities of eternity, 
and his greatest pleasure was in meditating 
and talking of the love of God. On the 
Lord's day morning, I called to see him, 
and found he had slept most of the night ; 
from this we flattered ourselves that the 
complaint had taken a favorable turn, and 
were in hopes of his recovery. But his 



DYING HOURS. 41 

physician said, his disease was fast ap- 
proaching to a crisis, and it was impos- 
sible for him to recover. Upon this in- 
formation, Mr. Shadford broke out in a 
rapture, and exclaimed, ' Glory be to God !' 
Upon the subject of his acceptance with 
God, and assurance of eternal glory, he 
had not a shadow of a doubt. While 
viewing the eternal world, he was asked, 
if all was clear before him ? he replied, 
' I bless God, it is ;' and added, ' Victory ! 
victory ! through the blood of the Lamb !' 
He again repeated, ' What surprise ! what 
surprise !' I suppose he was reflecting 
upon his deliverance from a corruptible 
body, and his entrance into the presence 
of his God and Saviour, where every 
scene surpasses all imagination and the 
boldest fancy. Two friends, who were 
anxious for his recovery, called upon him, 
and when they inquired how he was, 
he replied, ' I am going to my Father's 
house ! I find religion to be an angel 
in death.' A pious lady was particu- 
larly desirous of seeing him ; and she 
asked him to pray for her. He inquired 



42 DYING HOURS. 

< What shall I pray for ?' She said, ' That 
I may meet you in heaven, to cast my 
blood-bought crown at the feet of my Re- 
deemer I' He said, with great energy, 
' The prize is sure.' His last words were, 
' I '11 praise, I '11 praise, I '11 praise !' and 
a little after fell asleep in Jesus, on March 
11, 1816, in the 78th year of his age." 

How many of his spiritual children will 
greet him with songs of triumph in that 
day! How many stars will bestud his 
crown ! With what unspeakable delight 
will he say to the Master, " Here am I, 
and the children that thou hast given me !" 
O to die thus ! — what a privilege ! When 
a saint thus departs, we can say with the 
poet, — 

'^ Hosanna to Jesus on high ! 

Another has enter'd his rest ; 
Another has 'scaped to the sky, 

And lodged in Immanuel's breast : 
The soul of our brother is gone 

To heighten the triumph above ; 
Exalted to Jesus's throne, 

And clasp'd in the arms of his love. 

** What fullness of rapture is there, 
W^hile Jesus his glory displays ; 



DYING HOURS. 43 

And purples the heavenly air, 
And scatters the odors of grace ; 

He looks — and his servants in light 
The blessings ineffable meet : 

He smiles — and they faint at his sight, 
And fall overwhelm'd at his feet." 

But let us change the scene. How 
have unbelievers died ? The following 
instances may throw some light upon that 
question. 



The following letter was written by an 
English nobleman, on his deathbed, to an 
intimate friend : — 

" Dear Sir, — Before you receive this, 
my final state will be determined by the 
Judge of all the earth. In a few days at 
most, perhaps in a few hours, the inevita- 
ble sentence will be passed, that shall raise 
me to the heights of happiness, or sink me 
to the depths of misery. While you read 
these lines, I shall be either groaning un- 



44 DYINa HOURS. 

der the agonies of absolute despair, or \vi^ 
umphing in fullness of joy. 

" It is impossible for me to express the 
present disposition of my soul ; the vast 
uncertainty I am struggling with ! No 
words can paint the force and vivacity of 
my apprehensions. Every doubt wears 
the face of horror, and would perfectly 
overwhelm me, but for some faint gleams 
of hope which dart across the tremendous 
gloom ! What tongue can utter the an- 
guish of a soul suspended between the 
extremes of infinite joy and eternal mise- 
ry ? I am throwing my last stake for eter- 
nity, and tremble and shudder for the im- 
portant event. 

" Good God ! How have I employed 
myself? What enchantment has held me ? 
In what delirium has my life been passed ? 
What have I been doing, while the sun in 
his race, and the stars in their courses, 
have lent their beams, perhaps only to 
light me to perdition ? 

" I never awaked till now. I have but 
just commenced the dignity of a rational 
being. Till this time, I had a wrong ap- 



DYING HOURS. 45 

prehension of everything in nature. I have 
pursued shadows, and entertained nriyself 
with dreams. I have been treasuring up 
dust, and sporting myself with the wind. 
I look back upon my past life, and but 
for some memorials of infamy and guilt, it 
is all a blank — a perfect vacancy ! I might 
have grazed with the beasts of the field, or 
sung with the winged inhabitants of the 
woods, to much better purpose than any 
for which I have lived. And, O ! but for 
some faint hope, a thousand times more 
blessed had I been, to have slept with the 
clods of the valley, and never he^rd the 
Almighty's fiat, nor waked into life at his 
command ! I never had a just apprehen- 
sion of the solemnity of the part I am to 
act till now. I have often met death in- 
sulting on the hostile plain, and, with a 
stupid boast, defied his terrors ; with a 
courage as brutal as that of a warlike 
horse, I have rushed into the battle, laugh- 
ed at the glittering spear, and rejoiced al 
the sound of the trumpet, nor had a 
thought of any state beyond the grave, 
nor of the great tribunal to which I must 



46 DYING HOURS. 

have been summoned. It is this which 
arms death with all its terrors ; else I could 
still mock at fear, and smile in the face of 
the gloomy monarch. It is not giving up 
my breath, it is not being for ever insensi- 
ble, at which I shrink ; it is the terrible 

HEREAFTER the SOMETHING BEYOND THE 

GRAVE, at which I recoil. These great 
realities which, in the hours of mirth and 
vanity, I have treated as phantoms, as the 
idle dreams of superstitious beings ; these 
start forth, and dare me now in their most 
terrible demonstration. My awakened con- 
science feels something of that eternal 
vengeance I have often defied. To what 
heights of madness is it possible for human 
nature to reach ! What extravagance is it 
to jest with death ! to laugh at damna- 
tion! to sport with eternal chains, and 
recreate a jovial fancy with the scenes of 
infernal misery! Were there no impiety 
in this kind of mirth, it w^ould be as ill- 
bred as to entertain a dying friend with 
the sight of a harlequin, or the rehearsal 
of a farce. Everything in nature seems 
to reproach this levity in human creatures. 



DYING HOURS. 47 

The whole creation, man excepted, is se- 
rious — man, who has the highest reason to 
be so, while he has affairs of infinite con- 
sequence depending on this short, uncer- 
tain duration. A condemned wretch may 
with as good grace go dancing to his exe- 
cution, as the greatest part of mankind go 
on with such a thoughtless gayety to their 
graves. O, my friend, with what horror 
do I recall those hours of vanity we have 
wasted together ! Return, ye lost, neglect- 
ed moments! How should I prize you 
above the eastern treasures ! Let me dwell 
with hermits ; let me rest on the cold earth ; 
let me converse in cottages, may I but 
once more stand a candidate for an im- 
mortal crown, and have my probation for 
celestial happiness. Ye vain grandeurs of 
a court! ye sounding titles and perishing 
riches ! what do ye now signify ? What 
consolation, what relief, can ye give me? 
" I have a splendid passage to the grave; 
I die in state, and languish under a gilded 
canopy ; I am expiring on soft and downy 
pillows, and am respectably attended by 
my servants and physicians ; my depend- 



48 DYING HOURS. 

ents sigh; my sisters weep; my father 
bends beneath a load of years and grief; 
my lovely wife, pale and silent, conceals 
her inward anguish; my friend, who was 
as my own soul, suppresses his sighs, and 
leaves me to hide his secret grief. But, 
O ! which of these will answer my sum- 
mons at the high tribunal ? Which of them 
will bail me from the arrest of death ? Who 
will descend into the dark prison of the 
grave with me ? Here they all leave me, 
after having paid a few idle ceremonies to 
the breathless clay, which perhaps may lie 
reposed in state, while my soul, my only 
conscious part, may stand trembling be- 
fore my Judge. My afflicted friends, it is 
very probable, with great solemnity, will 
lay the senseless corpse in a stately monu- 
ment, inscribed with 



« HERE LIES THE GREAT 



but could the pale carcass speak, it would 
soon reply, 

' False marble, where 1 
Nothing but poor and sordid dust lies here I' 

While some flattering panegyric is pro- 
nounced at my interment, I may, perhaps, 



DYING HOURS. 49 

be hearing my just condemnation at a 
superior tribunal, where an unerring ver- 
dict may sentence me to everlasting in- 
famy." 

Who would not avoid such a death ! 
What are riches, honors, pleasures, and 
all the pomp of earth, with such an end ? 
Ah ! much better share the poverty of La- 
zarus, and like him die, and be " carried 
by angels into Abraham's bosom !" How 
trifling are riches when the soul is called 
into the presence of God! Look at the 
deathbed of 

€arirmal Btaxxiovt 

The cardinal was of royal extraction, 
the son of John of Gaunt, duke of Lan- 
caster, and was commonly called, the " rich 
cardinal of Winchester." He was void 
of principle, and guilty of the most infa- 
mous deeds. "History informs us, that 
he prevailed on the king to grant him let- 
ters of pardon for all offenses contrary to 
the statutes then enacted in England." 

The wise son of Sirach exclaims, " O, 
4 



50 DYING HOURS. 

death, how bitter is the remembrance of 
thee to a man who is at ease in his pos- 
sessions I" Of the truth of this sentiment 
we have a remarkable proof in the last 
moments of this ambitious cardinal. When 
he was arrested in the midst of his career, 
and the terrors of death were marshaled in 
horrid array before him, he thus complain- 
ed and vented his afflicted soul to his 
weeping friends around him : — "And must 
I then die ? Will not all my riches save 
me? I could purchase the kingdom, if 
that would prolong my life. Alas I there 
is no bribing death. When my nephew, 
the duke of Bedford, died, I thought my 
happiness and my authority greatly in- 
creased : but the duke of Gloucester's 
death raised me in fancy to a level with 
kings ; and I thought of nothing but ac- 
cumulating still greater w^ealth, to enable 
me, at length, to purchase the triple crown.* 
Alas! how are my hopes disappointed! 
Wherefore, O my friends ! let me earnest- 
ly beseech you to pray for me, and recom- 
mend my departing soul to God." Thus 

^ The popedom. 



DYING HOURS. 51 

did this wretched man pass into eternity. 
He died in 1447. 

O when will men learn where to seek 
for true happiness ! when will they seek 
that consolation and support they need, 
living and dying ! " O that men were wise, 
that they understood this, that they would 
consider their latter end !" The saint only 
has hope in death. The "righteous shall 
be held in everlasting remembrance." 



Died October 15, 1816, in Lancashire, 
England, aged almost eighty years. He 
entered the itinerant ministry under the 
direction of Mr. Wesley in 1761, and con- 
tinued in it with great zeal and success 
for nearly fifty-six years. He was deeply 
devoted to the cause of his Master, and 
there was nothing that that cause required 
at his hand, but what he was willing cheer- 
fully to perform. To suffer for his Lord 
was his delight : — 



52 DYING HOURS. 

** Who suffer with our Master here, 

We shall before his face appear, 

And by his side sit down." 

His death was sudden. He 

" Ceased at once to work and live." 

'' He experienced little or nothing of 
the formality of dying. His strong and 
well-formed body was greatly worn by 
age ; but like a machine, well constructed 
in all its parts, and all those parts so skill- 
fully united as to wear alike, it continued 
to be a suitable, and, upon the whole, a 
comfortable, habitation for his spirit, till at 
last 

* The weary springs of life stood still.' " 

The following account of his last days 
are given by his esteemed friend, Mrs. 
Holland :— 

" On Tuesday evening, October 8, 1816, 
Mr. Taylor arrived at Birch House, in 
Lancashire, in his usual state of health 
and cheerfulness. Wednesday morning 
he observed that he did not think he had 
passed so comfortable a night for twelve 
months. He attended to his studies as 



DYING HOURS. 53 

usual, and occasionally walked to see a 
few poor people. 

" On Saturday night he had two violent 
attacks of his complaint, which obliged 
him to sit up till he was a little recovered; 
but though he felt himself much enfeebled, 
he accompanied Mr. Holland to Bolton 
the next morning, where he preached 
from, 'Our light afflictions,' &c. 2 Cor. 
iv, 17, 18. It was observed by his hear- 
ers, that he was particularly animated, and 
that his views of glory, in the discussion 
of the subject, were more than usually 
bright. He dined at Mr. RothwelPs, where 
he evidenced a spirit of lively gratitude 
and animated praise. But the effects of 
his morning exertions became so visible 
in much weakness and bodily pain, that 
his friends judged it improper for him to 
undertake the evening service. No en- 
treaties, however, could dissuade him from 
his purpose of setting out for the Old 
Chapel ; in going to which, he was obliged 
frequently to pause, and once for the space 
of nearly a quarter of an hour. Having 
arrived at the chapel, he went to Mr. 



DYING HOURS. 



Grindrod's, where he remained a short 
time, in order to get breath ; during which 
time another minister began the service. 
When he had concluded prayer, he found 
the veteran saint ready to enter upon his 
office, which he did, by taking these words 
for his text, ' Thou shalt keep him in per- 
fect peace, whose soul is staid on thee.' 
He seemed to have forgotten his weakness, 
and to have unusual liberty in explaining 
the passage. In one part of the discourse 
he raised himself, and said with great em- 
phasis, ' I should like to die like an old sol- 
dier, sivord in hand P He again preached 
with animation in the evening, from 1 Cor. 



ii, 12. 



" Through the whole of the evening he 
was particularly cheerful, and often very 
spiritual. He retired about eleven, and, 
intending to accompany Mr. H. to Man- 
chester the next morning, he shaved be- 
fore he went to bed. On Tuesday morn- 
ing, Mr. Holland, thinking that he lay 
longer than usual, as he did not hear him 
stir, tapped at his door, but no answer was 
returned. He entered the room, and found 



DYING HOURS. 55 

him lying by the bed-side at full length, 
more than half dressed, but perfectly com- 
posed as in a quiet sleep ; the chariots of 
Israel and the horsemen had come, and 
the prepared saint had ascended with his 
bright convoy." 

Thus was his desire granted ; he fell 
with sword in hand I He fell victorious 
in the battle-field. The Christian poet, 
Montgomery, has written some excellent 
lines on his death, entitled, " The Christian 
Soldier^ s Death J^ They are as follow : — 

" Servant of God ! well done, 

Rest from thy loved employ ; 
The battle 's fought, the vict'ry won, 

Enter thy Master's joy : 
The voice at midnight came. 

He started up to hear ; 
A mortal arrow pierced his frame, 

He fell — but felt no fear. 

*' At home amidst alarms, 

It found him in the field ; 
A vet'ran slumb'ring on his arms, 

Beneath his red-cross shield : 
His sword was in his hand. 

Still warm with recent fight ; 
Ready that moment at command 

Through rock and steel to smite. 



66 DYING HOURS. 

** It was a two-edged blade, 

Of heavenly temper keen ; 
And double were the wounds it made 

Where'er it glanced between : 
'Twas death to sin — 'twas life 

To all that mourn'd their sin ; 
It kindled and it silenced strife, 

Made war and peace within. 

'' Stout hearts before it fell, 

Subdued by wrath and love ; 
'Twas dreadful as the flames of hell, 

Bright as the beams above : 
Heroes were wont to name 

The weapons of their might ; 
This was the brand of matchless flame, 

The Word of God, in fight. 

"Oft with its fiery force 

His arm had quell'd the foe ; 
And laid, resistless in his course. 

The alien armies low ; 
Bent on such glorious toils. 

The world to him was loss ; 
But all his trophies, all his spoils, 

He hung upon the cross. 

** At midnight came the cry, 

* To meet thy God prepare,' 
He woke — he caught his Captain's eye. 

Then, strong in faith and prayer. 
His spirit with a bound 

Burst its encumb'ring clay ; 
His tent at sunrise on the ground 

A darken'd ruin lay. 



DYING HOURS. 57 

" The pains of death are past, 

Labor and sorrow cease ; 
And life's long warfare closed at last, 

His soul is found in peace. 
Soldier of Christ, well done ! — 

Begin thy new employ ; 
Sing, while eternal ages run. 

Thy Master and his joy." 



The Rev. Enoch George died in Staun- 
ton, Virginia, August 23, 1828. In early 
life he became pious, and, under a strong 
conviction that it was his duty to preach 
the gospel, entered the traveling ministry 
of the Methodist Episcopal Church. His 
success gave the fullest demonstration that 
he was not mistaken in his calling. In 
1816 he was elected bishop in said church, 
in which office he continued until his 
death. His piety was deep, and was 
strikingly exemplified in life and in death. 

*' Strong in the great Redeemer's name, 
He bore the cross, despised the shame ; 
A.nd, like his Master here, 



58 DYING HOURS. 

Wrestled with danger, pain, distress, 
Hunger, and cold, and nakedness, 
And every form of fear." 

The truth of the following passage, from 
his writings, is clearly seen in his last 
hours : — 

" View the disciples of Jesus in death I 
It is then that their principles and hopes 
are brought to the severest test. Nothing 
can be more convincing to the careless, or 
encouraging to the pious, than the dying 
triumphs of a Christian. When the un- 
ceasing pressure of pain tortures, and 
strength fails, and the spirits ebb ; when all 
earthly things recede, and the solemn light 
of eternity dawns ; when the last agonies 
rend asunder the soul and body ; — to see 
the man under such circumstances, smiling 
amid the ruins of dissolving nature, com- 
mitting himself without fear or dismay to 
his ever-living Redeemer, and in effect 
saying to death, ' Rejoice not against me, 
O mine enemy, when I fall I shall arise;' 
— it is then, and under such circumstances, 
that the power of religion is displayed. 



1 



DYING HOURS. 59 

* How our hearts burn'd within ^is at the scene ! 
His God sustains him in his final hour ! 
His final hour brings glory to his God ! 
Man's glory Heaven vouchsafes to call his own. 
We gaze ! we weep mix'd tears of grief and joy ! 
Amazement strikes ! devotion bursts to flame ! 
Christians adore I and infidels believe !' " 

His end was remarkably peaceful. To 
several brethren, who called to see him a 
short time before his death, he said, " If I 
die, I am going to glory ! For this I 
have been living forty years." He made 
arrangements for the settlement of his tem- 
poral affairs with much composure. He 
requested that the fourteenth and fifteenth 
chapters of the Gospel by St. John might 
be read. On hearing them, he made some 
appropriate remarks on the sentiments 
contained in them, and exclaimed, "What 
a body of divinity and valuable truth is 
contained in those chapters ?" 

His soul was filled with great joy. 

On one occasion he said to a friend, 
who expressed a desire for him to live 
longer, " Why do you not wish me to go 
to heaven from Staunton ?" His sufi'er- 



60 DYING HOURS. 

ings at times were great, but he bore them 
patiently. " Glory ! glory !" was his theme. 
To his attendant physician he said, " I 
shall soon be in glory !" In the ecstasy 
of his feelings he appears to have been 
greatly abstracted from the world, and ab- 
sorbed in meditations on the enjoyment 
of the society of glorified spirits — so much 
so as to have lost himself in the raptures 
of the glory just ready to break upon him, 
if he were not already favored with a 
vision of angelic attendants. He said to a 
friend, " Who are these ? Are they not all 
ministering spirits ? My dear departed wife 
has been with me, and I shall soon be 
with her in glory." As several brethren 
entered the room to see him, he raised his 
arms to embrace them, and said, " Breth- 
ren, rejoice with me ; I am going to glory.'' 
As his strength failed, his joys increased. 
He clapped his hands and exclaimed, 
" Shout glory to God !" At another time he 
said, " I have been many years trying to 
lead others to glory, and now thither I am 
going. For me to live is Christ, but to die is 
gain." Thus he expired. Surely 



DYING HOURS. 61 

" The chamber where the good man meets his fate 
Is privileged beyond the common walks of virtu- 
ous life, 
Quite on the verge of heaven." 

" Christ triumphed for his saints," says 
John Angel James, "by his own death, 
and he is continually renewing the victory 
in them^ amid all the sufferings and decay 
of their own dissolution." " Thanks be 
unto God, who giveth us the victory through 
our Lord Jesus Christ." 



Joseph Addison, the celebrated writer, 
was born at Milston, in Wiltshire, Eng- 
land, in the year 1672. He was educated 
at Queen's College, Oxford. He possessed 
deep piety as well as splendid acquire- 
ments. His writings have been universally 
admired, and will long continue to occupy 
a prominent place in English literature. 
His contributions to the Tattler, Guardian, 
and Spectator, are considered among the 
finest specimens of English composition. 
Dr. Johnson says of him : " He em- 



62 DYING HOURS. 

ployed wit on the side of virtue and re- 
ligion. He not only made the proper use 
of wit himself, but taught it to others ; and 
from his time it has been generally sub- 
servient to the cause of reason and truth. 
He has dissipated the prejudice that had 
long connected cheerfulness with vice, and 
easiness of manners with laxity of princi- 
ples. He has restored virtue to its dignity, 
and taught innocence not to be ashamed. 
This is an elevation of literary character 
above all Greek and Roman fame. As a 
teacher of wisdom he may be confidently 
followed. He employed all the enchant- 
ment of fancy, and all the cogency of argu- 
ment, to recommend to the reader his real 
interest — the care of pleasing the Author 
of his being." 

He took great pleasure in contemplating 
a future existence. He says, " The pros- 
pect of a future state is the secret comfort 
and refreshment of my soul. It is that 
which makes nature cheerful about me ; 
it doubles all my pleasures, and supports 
me under all my afflictions. I can look 
at disappointments and misfortunes, pain 



4 



DYING HOURS. 63 

and sickness, death itself, with indifference, 
so long as I keep in view the pleasures of 
eternity, and the state of being in which 
there will be no fears nor apprehensions, 
pains or sorrows." 

It is said by Mr. Murray, that " the virtue 
of this excellent man shone brightest at the 
point of death. After a long and manly, 
but vain, struggle with his distempers, he 
dismissed his physicians, and with them 
all hopes of life ; but with his hopes of life 
he dismissed not his concern for the living. 
He sent for Lord Warwick, a youth nearly 
related to him, and finely accomplished, 
but irregular in conduct and principle, on 
whom his pious instructions and example 
had not produced the desired effect. Lord 
Warwick came ; but, life now glimmering 
in the socket, the dying friend was silent. 
After a proper pause, the youth said, 
' Dear sir ! you sent for me : I believe 
and hope you have some commands ; I 
shall hold them most dear.' May the 
reader not only feel the reply, but retain 
its impression ! Forcibly grasping the 
youth's hand, he softly said, * See in what 



64 DYING HOURS. 

peace a Christian can die !' He spoke 
with difficulty, and soon expired. Through 
divine grace, how great is man ! Through 
divine mercy, how stingless death !" 

Dr. Young, it is said, wrote the follow- 
ing lines in reference to the last hours of 
this great and good man : — 

" He taught us how to live, and, O ! too high 
A price for knowledge ! taught us how to die /" 



l)ciltatre. 

Voltaire, a French writer of considera- 
ble note, and an atheist, was born Febru- 
ary 20th, 1694, at Chatenay, educated at 
the Jesuits' college at Paris, and died May 
30th, 1778. He possessed talents, but mis- 
applied them. He spent much of his time 
in treating with contempt the Holy Scrip- 
tures, and ridiculing the Christian religion. 
The death of this wretched man was as 
might have been supposed. He said to 
his physician. Dr. Tronchin, but a short 
time before he expired, " I am abandoned 
by God and man. Doctor, I will give you 



DYING HOURS. 65 

half of what I am worth if you will give 
me six months' life." The doctor replied, 
" Sir, you cannot live six weeks." " Then," 
said the dying man, " I shall go to hell, 
and you will go with me !" 

The author of the History of the French 
Clergy, Abbe Bareul, has given an ac- 
count of the closing scene of this impious 
man. "It was," he says, "during Vol- 
taire's last visit to Paris, when his triumph 
was complete, and he had even feared he 
should die with glory, amidst the acclama- 
tions of an infatuated theatre, that he was 
struck by the hand of Providence, and made 
a very different termination of his career. 

" In the midst of his triumphs, a violent 
hemorrhage raised apprehensions for his 
life. D' Alembert, Diderot, and Marmontel, 
hastened to support his resolution in his last 
moments, but were only witnesses to their 
mutual ignominy, as well as to his own. 

" Here let not the historian fear exag- 
geration. Rage, remorse, reproach, and 
blasphemy, all accompany and characterize 
the long agony of the dying atheist. His 
death, the most terrible ever recorded to 
5 



66 DYING HOURS. 

have stricken an impious man, will not be 
denied by his companions in impiety. 
Their silence, however much they may 
wish to deny it, is the least of those cor- 
roborative proofs which might be adduced. 
Not one of the sophisters has ever dared 
to mention any sign given, of resolution 
or tranquillity, by the premier chief, during 
the space of three months which elapsed 
from the time he was crowned in the 
theatre until his decease. 

" It was on his return from the theatre, 
and in the midst of his toils he was re- 
suming in order to acquire fresh applause, 
when Voltaire was warned that the long 
career of his impiety was drawing to an end. 

" In spite of all the sophisters flocking 
around him, in the first day of his illness 
he gave signs of washing to return to God 
whom he had so often blasphemed. He 
called for the priest, who ministered to 
Him whom he had sworn to crush under 
the appellation of the ivretch. [He had 
often applied this term to the blessed Sa- 
viour.] His danger increasing, he wrote 
the following note to the abbe Gaultier : — 



DYING HOURS. 67 

* Yoti had promised me, sir^ to come and 
hear me. I entreat you would take the 
trouble of calling as soon as possible.' 
Signed, Voltaire, Paris, Feb. 16th, 1778. 

" D' Alennbert, Diderot,* and about twen- 
ty others of the conspirators, who had be- 
set his apartment, never approached him, 
but to witness their own ignominy ; and 
often he would curse them, and exclaim, 
' Retire ! It is you that have brought me 
to my present state ! Begone ! I could 
have done without you all ; but you could 
not exist without me ! And what a wretch- 
ed glory you have procured for me !' " 

Then would succeed the horrid remem- 
brance of his conspiracy. They could 
hear him, the prey of anguish and dread, 
alternately supplicating and blaspheming 
that God against w^hom he had conspired ; 
and in plaintive accents he would cry out, 
"O, Christ! O, Jesus Christ!" and then 
complain that he was abandoned by God 
and man. The Hand which had traced in 

* It is said on good authority, that D'Alembert and 
Diderot died with remorse of conscience similar to that 
experienced by Voltaire. 



68 DYING HOURS. 

ancient writ the sentence of an impious 
and reviling king, seemed to trace before 
his eyes, Crush then, do crush the wretch. 
In vain he turned his head away : the time 
was coming apace when he was to appear 
before the tribunal of Him whom he had 
blasphemed ; and his physicians, particu- 
larly Mr. Tronchin, calling in to administer 
relief, thunder-struck, retired, declaring that 
the death of the impious man tvas terrible 
indeed. The pride of the conspirators 
would willingly have suppressed these de- 
clarations, but it was in vain. The mares- 
chal de Richelieu fled from the bedside, 
declojring it to be a sight too terrible to be 
sustained; and Mr. Tronchin, that the 
furies of Orestes could give but a faint 
idea of those of Voltaire. 

Cowper speaks of him thus, — 

" The Frenchman first in literary fame, 
(Mention him if you please — Voltaire 1 The same.) 
With spirit, genius, eloquence, supplied, 
Lived long, wrote much, laugh'd heartily, and died ! 
The Scripture was his jest-book, whence he drew 
Bon-mots to gall the Christian and the Jew. 
An infidel in health ; but what when sick ? 
O then, a text would touch him at the quick !" 



t 



DYING HOURS. 69 



David Hume has been regarded as ihe 
great champion of infidelity ; and perhaps 
few have labored with greater zeal to de- 
stroy the influence of the Christian reli- 
gion. He wrote in defense of almost 
every crime which has degraded human 
nature. 

He died as he lived. Says Dr. John- 
son : " Hume owned he had never read the 
New Testament with attention. Here, 
then, was a man, who had been at no pains 
to inquire into the truth of religion, and 
had continually turned his mind the other 
way. It was not to be expected that the 
prospect of death should alter his way of 
thinking, unless God should send an angel 
to set him right. He had a vanity in being 
thought easy." He spent much of his 
time, as death drew near, in playing at 

WHIST AND in CRACKING JOKES. Horrid 

indeed ! But, with all his efforts to die 
" eas7/y^ conscience would awake. We are 
assured, on good authority, that " Hume 



70 DYING HOURS. 

died in extreme agony and horror of mind. 
His nurse, a truly respectable woman, has 
detailed the dreadful secret, and expressed 
her fervent desire never to witness such 
another deathbed scene." 

Who would say, " Let me die the death 
of an infidel, and let my last days be like 
his?" 

On reading the account of the death- 
bed scenes of such characters, methinks 
I hear the reader exclaim, " Let me die 
the death of the righteous, and let my last 
end be like his !" 



Eet). (George Hoberta 

Experienced the converting grace of God 
in early life, and devoted himself to the 
Christian ministry. He was among the 
first Methodist preachers who came to 
New-England, (he came in 1790,) where, 
through much opposition and suffering, 
he labored with great success. Through 
excessive labors and toils his health failed, 
and being unable to perform much minis- 



1 



DYING HOURS. 71 

terial service, he located in the city of 
Baltimore, where he became a physician, 
preaching occasionally, as his health would 
permit. 

He was an able preacher, and greatly 
beloved. Such were his controversial 
powers, that error seemed to flee before 
him, and his antagonists found themselves 
unequal to the contest, though many of 
them were able and powerful. To defend 
the truth was his delight. It might be said 
of him as it was of Barnabas, " He was 
full of faith and the Holy Ghost." 

He w^as signally honored of his Master, 
in being made the instrument of " turning 
many to righteousness." Hundreds will, 
no doubt, greet him in "that day," as hav- 
ing been instrumental in their salvation. 
He will " shine" in the heavenly firmament 
" as the stars for ever and ever." 

He died in Baltimore in Christian tri- 
umph ; being eminently sustained in the 
last conflict. " His last hours," says his 
son, " were eminently triumphant, though 
eminently painful physically. For twenty- 
four hours prior to his death, he had a 



72 DYING HOURS. 

most violent convulsion every ten minutes, 
by the watch ; and for twenty-four hours 
preceding the last day he had them every 
half hour. Strange as it may seem, it is 
nevertheless true, that he came out of each 
with his intellect apparently more vigorous 
than when it seized him. During the inter- 
vals he shouted aloud, almost every mo- 
ment, the praises of redeeming grace. 
This fact was the more striking from the 
consideration of his having never been 
known to exult much during his previous 
life. He was distinguished by the even- 
ness and quiet of his temper and frame. 
A night or two previous to his dissolution 
I urged him to spare himself, and offered 
as a reason for it, the possibility of his dis- 
turbing the neighbors. He immediately 
replied, ' Be quiet, my son : be quiet, my 
son ! No, no ! If I had the voice of an 
angel, I would rouse the inhabitants of 
Baltimore, for the purpose of telling the 
joys of redeeming love. Victory I victory ! 
victory ! through the blood of the Lamb !' 
' Victory through the blood of the Lamb !' 



DYING HOURS. 73 

was the last sentence that trembled on his 
dying lips.'' 

Such is triumphant dying ! What but 
the power of religion can enable the soul 
thus to triumph when the body sinks to 
the tomb ? The poet confidently, though 
truly, exclaims, — 

" The holy triumphs of my soul 
Shall death itself outbrave ; 
Leave dull mortality behind, 
And fly beyond the grave !" 



John Howard, the friend of the poor and 
unfortunate, was born at Hackney, Eng- 
land, in the year 1726. He became a 
Christian in his youth, and through life 
was a devoted servant of his Master. He 
was unwearied in his exertions to relieve 
the suffering and destitute. He " adopted 
the cause of the prisoner, the sick, and the 
destitute, not only in his own country, but 
throughout Europe." 

On leaving his country, to prosecute his 



74 DYING HOURS. 

work of mercy, he writes, " To my country 
I commit the result of my past labors. 
It is my intention again to quit it, for the 
purpose of revisiting Russia, Turkey, and 
other countries, and extending my tour in 
the East. I am not insensible of the dan- 
gers that must attend such a journey. 
Trusting, however, in the protection of 
that kind Providence which has hitherto 
preserved me, I calmly and cheerfully 
commit myself to the disposal of unerring 
Wisdom. Should it please God to cut off 
my life in the prosecution of this design, 
let it not be uncandidly imputed to rash- 
ness or enthusiasm; but to a serious, de- 
liberate conviction, that I am pursuing the 
path of duty ; and to a sincere desire of 
being made an instrument of greater use- 
fulness to my fellow-creatures, than could 
be expected in the circle of a retired life." 

The celebrated Burke says, " I cannot 
name this gentleman without remarking, 
that his labors and writings have done 
much to open the eyes and hearts of man- 
kind. He has visited all Europe — not to 
survey the sumptuousness of palaces, nor 



I 



DYING HOURS. 75 

the stateliness of temples ; not to make 
accurate measurements of the remains of 
ancient grandeur, nor to form a scale of 
the curiosity of modern art, nor to collect 
medals, or collate manuscripts — but to dive 
into the depths of dungeons ; to plunge 
into the infection of hospitals ; to survey 
the mansions of sorrow and pain ; to take 
the guage and dimensions of misery, de- 
pression, and contempt ; to remember the 
forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to 
visit the forsaken, and to compare and 
collate the distresses of all men in all 
countries. His plan is original ; it is as 
full of genius as it is of humanity. It was 
a voyage of discovery; a circumnaviga- 
tion of charity. Already the benefit of his 
labor is felt more or less in every country ." 
On leaving England for the last time, a 
friend expressed to him his apprehension 
that they should never meet again. He 
replied, " We shall soon meet in heaven ;" 
and, as he expected to die of the plague in 
Egypt, he added, " The way to heaven 
from Grand Cairo is as near as from Lon- 
don." 



76 DYING HOURS. 

" While this great and good man was 
laboring for the relief of distress, it pleased 
divine Providence to suffer him to fall a 
victim to a disease, supposed to be the 
plague, at Cherson, in 1790. He was 
perfectly sensible, during his last illness, 
except at short intervals, till within a very 
few hours before his death. He was fully 
prepared for the event, and often said that 
he had no wish for life, but as it gave him 
the means of relieving his fellow-men." 
On being told by his physicians that he 
had not long to live, he said, " It is well : 
whatever pleases God pleases me." Noble 
testimony! How expressive of Christian 
resignation ! Thus did the pious, philan- 
thropic Howard, close his labors for the 
good of man ! 

Some excellent lines have been written 
on his death by Dr. Aiken, which we here 
present to the reader: — 

** Howard, thy task is done ! thy Master calls, 
And summons thee from Cherson's distant walls. 
* Come, well-approved ! my faithful servant, come ! 
No more a wand'rer, seek thy destined home. 
Long have I mark'd thee, with overruling eye, 
And sent admiring angels from on high, 



DYING HOURS. 77 

To walk the paths of danger by thy side, 

From death to shield thee, and through snares to 

guide. 
My minister of good, I 've sped the way, 
And shot through dungeon glooms a leading ray, 
To cheer, by thee, with kind, unhoped relief. 
My creatures lost and whelm'd in guilt and grief. 
I 've led thee, ardent, on through wond'ring climes, 
To combat human woes and human crimes. 
But 'tis enough — thy great commission's o'er ; 
I prove thy faith, thy love, thy zeal, no more. 
Nor droop, that far from country, kindred, friends, 
Thy life, to duty long devoted, ends : 
What boots it ivhere the high reward is given. 
Or whence the soul triumphant springs to heaven V 



The Rev. Edward Payson, a distinguish- 
ed Congregational minister of Portland, 
Maine, was the son of the Rev. Seth 
Payson, and was born in Rindge, N. H., 
July 25, 1783. He graduated at Harvard 
College in 1803, and was ordained, as the 
colleague of Mr. Kellogg, Portland, De- 
cember 16, 1807; he afterward became 
the sole pastor of a new church in that 
city. 



78 DYING HOURS. 

" During about twenty years he was 
exclusively devoted to the worii of the mi- 
nistry with increasing usefulness, being 
the instrument of the conversion to the 
Christian faith of hundreds of his hearers." 

" In his distressing sickness he display- 
ed, in the most interesting and impressive 
manner, the power of Christian faith. 
Smitten down in the midst of his days 
and usefulness, he was entirely resigned 
to the divine will; for he perceived dis- 
tinctly, that the infinite wisdom of God 
could not err in the direction of events, 
and it was his joy that God reignelh. His 
mind rose over bodily pain, and, in the 
strong visions of eternity, he seemed almost 
to lose the sense of suffering." 

His dying sayings were numerous — too 
numerous to mention in this short sketch. 
The triumphant manner of his departure 
may be seen from a letter, addressed to his 
sister a few days before his death : — 

" Were I to adopt the figurative lan- 
guage of Bunyan, I might date this letter 
from the land of Beulah, of which I have 
been for some weeks a happy inhabitant. 



DYING HOURS. ^ 79 

The celestial city is full in my view. Its 
glories beam upon me, its odors are waft- 
ed to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, 
and its spirit is breathed into my heart. 
Nothing separates me from it but the river 
of death, which now appears but as an in- 
significant rill, that may be crossed at a 
single step, whenever God shall give per- 
mission. The Sun of righteousness has 
gradually been drawing nearer and nearer, 
appearing larger and brighter as he ap- 
proached, and now fills the whole hemi- 
sphere ; pouring forth a flood of glory, in 
which I seem to float like an insect in the 
beams of the sun ; exulting, yet almost 
trembling, while I gaze on this excessive 
brightness, and wondering, with unuttera- 
ble wonder, why God should deign thus 
to shine upon a sinful worm. A single 
heart and a single tongue seem altogether 
inadequate to my wants : I want a whole 
heart for every separate emotion, and a 
whole tongue to express that emotion." 

What glory in dying thus! To pass 
away amid such a halo of it is truly trans- 
porting ! 



80 DYING HOURS. 



The Rev. George Pickering was born 
in Talbot county, Maryland, in 1769 ; 
brought up in Philadelphia ; converted in 
St. George's Church in that city at the 
age of eighteen ; joined the Methodist tra- 
veling connection in 1790, and continued 
in that connection, without interruption, for 
fifty-seven years. His travels, labors, and 
privations, were great ; yet he " endured 
as seeing Him who is invisible." He was 
generally known and greatly beloved in 
the church — a man of pure character, 
of strong faith, and ardent zeal. Many 
are the seals of his ministry. During the 
last year of his life he was the oldest effect- 
ive Methodist preacher in the world. 

His brethren in the ministry speak of 
him thus : " He was kind-hearted, affable, 
and highly cheerful. His distinguishing 
traits of mind were, penetration, clearness, 
decision, a tenacious memory, an invent- 
ive genius, a prompt yet cautious judg- 
ment, prudence, a peculiar quaintness or 



DYING HOURS. 81 

humor, and an elevated taste. He was 
spiritually minded in an eminent degree. 
His faith was unwavering. He seemed 
deeply impressed and pervaded with the 
truths of revelation, which were his con- 
stant study. A spirit of prayer, in a strong 
and bright flame, burned upon the altar 
of his heart, and his sense of heavenly 
things often glowed w^ith rapture. He was 
a popular preacher, a sound divine, a 
cheerful and self-sacrificing itinerant, an 
able and patient ruler, and — what is of the 
greatest importance — he was successful in 
bringing souls to Christ. He was a living 
pillar in the church." 

He died at his family residence at Wal- 
tham, Massachusetts, December 8th, 1846, 
at the age of seventy-seven. A few days 
before his departure several of his breth- 
ren called to see him. An account of the 
visit is thus given : — " Such was his ex- 
treme feebleness that visitors, and even 
audible devotional exercises, had been al- 
most entirely inadmissible in his chamber. 
At his own request, we were permitted to 
approach his bedside. A scene there en- 
6 



82 DYING HOURS. 

sued which no pen can describe. As it 
was impossible for him to address the 
visitors individually, one of them was de- 
signated to speak to him in behalf of all ; 
but under the necessary restriction of do- 
ing so in the briefest possible manner. On 
taking the hand of the aged sufferer, he 
opened his eyes, and showed his recogni- 
tion of the brother, addressing him by tears 
of affection. The following brief conver- 
sation ensued: — 

" ^ Beloved father, a number of your 
ministerial brethren are present, and have 
requested me to express to you their 
Christian affection and sympathy.' 

'' He replied, with strong emphasis and 
tears, ' I thank you ; you all have a high 
place in my affection.' 

" ' They are happy to learn that in this 
your extremity, you still rejoice in hope of 
the glory of God.' 

" ' Yes I O yes !' 

" ' That you feel that the sting of death 
is extracted?' 

"* Yes! Oyes!' 



DYING HOURS. 83 

" 'And that you can resign yourself fully 
into the hands of your Lord?' 

" ' Yes, O yes ; glory be to his name !' 

" Grasping the hand of the brother ad- 
dressing him with still firmer hold, he then, 
with tears and sobs, exclaimed, 

" ' You all have my high esteem and af- 
fection. Tell, O tell the brethren, to preach 
Christ and him crucified — an all-able, all- 
powerful, all-willing, all-ready Saviour — a 
present Saviour, saving' novj. Preach, 
" Now^ is the accepted time, now is the day 
of salvation." O, tell them to preach holi- 
ness ; holiness is the principal thing. God 
enable you to preach holiness !' 

" His emotions overcame him : he at- 
tempted to say more ; but the brother con- 
ducting the conversation closed it with ap- 
propriate remarks. 

" The scene was touching and sublime 
— a hoary and heroic veteran of the cross 
was standing between both worlds, about 
to disappear from his fellow-laborers for 
ever on earth. Full of years, and virtues, 
and services, he was now victorious over 



84 DYING HOURS. 

death, and giving his departing counsels to 
his brethren. We broke away from the 
room, so near the gate of heaven, with 
deep emotions, and assembled in the par- 
lor below, where we sung, — 

* On Jordan's stormy banks I stand, 

And cast a wishful eye 
To Canaan's fair and happy land, 
Where my possessions lie. 

* O the transporting, rapt'rous scene, 

That rises to my sight ! 
Sweet fields array'd in living green. 
And rivers of delight !' " 

During most of the time of his last ill- 
ness he was peculiarly joyful and triumph- 
ant. The hero of so many moral battle- 
fields died as he lived — victorious. His 
last distinct utterance was, "All my affairs 
for time and eternity are settled. Glory be 
to God!" And the last whisper caught 
by his attendants was the word " Glory !'^ 
" Precious in the sight of the Lord is the 
death of his saints !" 

Now look at the following cases, and 
see how unbelievers and apostates die ! 



DYING HOURS. 85 



Thomas Paine, a political writer and de- 
ist, was born in Norfolk, England, in 1737, 
and died in New- York, June 8, 1809, aged 
seventy-two years. This unhappy unbe- 
liever died in great misery. In conse- 
quence of his disgusting vices, he became 
an outcast from all respectable society. 
He is said to have been irritable, vain, 
filthy, malignant, dishonest, and drunken. 
Says Mr. Cunningham : " Few men 
have been more bountifully favored with 
the gifts of nature and expansion of intellect, 
than was Thomas Paine. His essays on 
the political rights of man stand as a 
lasting monument of his genius, and ex- 
hibit a mind girded with strength ; yet, 
notwithstanding this, his great success, 
and acknowledged ability in effecting a 
political revolution, he revolted against 
God and common sense. His 'Age of 
Reason ' was his age of folly ! He shut 
his eyes against rational evidence, denied 
the truth of the Christian religion, and be- 



86 DYING HOURS. 

came a skeptic. This infatuated infidel 
was left to the fruits of his own doings ; 
he degraded himself, and died a fool. 

"An intimate friend and relation of 
mine visited Paine, during his sufferings, 
a short time before his death ; the object 
of which visit was, as far as possible, to 
ascertain the true state of his mind, and to 
administer consolation. to him in this try- 
ing moment. On being introduced to him, 
this friend found him much distressed in 
body and mind. Another friend, who vi- 
sited him for the same purpose, says that 
he never saw a man in so much apparent 
distress. He sat with his elbow on his knee, 
and his head leaning on his hand ; and 
beside him stood a vessel, to catch the 
blood that was oozing from him in five 
different streams, like spider's webs^-one 
from the corner of his mouth, one from 
each eye, and one from each nostril. This 
friend endeavored to get him into conver- 
sation, but was only answered by horrid 
looks and dreadful groans." 

Frequently, in his distress, he would 
call out, " Lord Jesus ! help me." Dr. 



DYING HOURS. 87 

Maiiley asked him whether, from his call- 
ing so often upon the Saviour, it was to 
be inferred that he believed the gospel. 
He replied, " I have no wish to believe on 
that subject." He expired in great agony. 
Such are the fruits of infidelity. Dreadful 
indeed to contemplate. How many, like 
Paine, has infidelity ruined ! 

"With what dreadful vehemence," says 
Jay, in one of his Evening Exercises, " did 
the writer once hear a fine young man, while 
dying, exclaim, again and again, 'O, curse 
you^ Voltaire P O, how many have Paine, 
Voltaire, and other infidels, taught to live 
and die like themselves ! For ruining so 
many hundreds, they will be cursed by 
God and man in time and in eternity ! 



®l)oma0 ^obbe0. 

Thomas Hobbes, a celebrated philosopher, 
was born in 1588, in Wiltshire, England ; 
was educated at Oxford, 1608; became tu- 
tor to the earl of Devonshire, and, in 1640, 
retired to Paris, where he performed much 



88 DYING HOURS. 

of his literary labor. He possessed superior 
talents, but they were not employed in the 
cause of God. His doctrines, religious 
and political, are most pernicious in their 
consequences. Whether he was an atheist 
or not, he sneered at the Christian idea of 
a God, and contemned the Holy Scrip- 
tures. The earl of Rochester and many 
others had imbibed infidel principles from 
his writings. 

He received no comfort or support from 
his philosophy. He was wretched beyond 
description ; troubled by day and by night. 
He could not bear the thought of dying, 
and labored to avoid the subject as much 
as possible. But die he must. When he 
found that he could live no longer, he said, 
" I am about to take a leap in the dark. I 
shall be glad to find a hole at which to 
creep out of the world." Poor deluded 
man ! Where now is his infidel philoso- 
phy ? It is a poor light to his feet " through 
the valley and shadow of death." Alas 
for infidelity ! 



DYING HOURS. 89 



IrancxB Spxra. 

Francis Spira was a resident of Venice, 
a man of wealth, a lawyer by profession, 
and of good reputation. A few years after 
the death of Martin Luther, he espoused 
the reformer's opinions, and advocated 
them. This became obnoxious to the 
Popish clergy, and he was brought before 
the pope's legate, charged with dangerous 
innovations. He must recant, or suffer 
what his enemies might inflict upon him. 
After a hard struggle with conscience, he 
finally signed a recantation, by which he 
was discharged. Soon, in reflecting on 
what he had done, he became overwhelm- 
ed in despair. His friends offered their 
assistance ; physicians were sent for : " Do 
you think," said he, " that this disease is 
to be cured by potions ? Neither plasters 
nor drugs can ease a soul lying under the 
wrath of God." He would exclaim, " O ! 
miserable wretch ! O ! miserable wretch !" 
For about eight weeks he was in great 
anguish, and died in despair! Far better 



90 DYING HOURS. 

had he followed the example of the aged 
Poly carp ^ who, when commanded to ab- 
jure Christ, said, " Eighty and six years 
have I served him, and he never did me 
wrong; how can I blaspheme my King, 
who hath saved me ?" He suffered cheer- 
fully for his Master. How dreadful to 
deny Christ! Who can but shudder as 
he contemplates the doom of apostates? 
May the reader never experience it ! 



Ultlbur lt0k. 

The Rev. Wilbur Fisk was born at 
Brattleboro', Vermont, August 31, 1792. 
He graduated at Brown University, Rhode 
Island, in 1815. Soon after he became a 
Christian, and gave himself up to the work 
of the Christian ministry. His talents 
were of a high order ; his piety, deep and 
genuine. As a wTiter, he excelled ; as a 
preacher, he was popular and successful. 
But few men in this country have attracted 
more attention as a public speaker. He 



\ 



DYING HOURS. 91 

was principal of the Wesleyan Academy, 
at Wilbraham, for several years ; after 
which he was elected president of the 
Wesleyan University, which station he 
sustained at the time of his death. Much 
may be said of this great and good man, 
but our object here is simply to notice his 
last hours. 

How did the devoted, eloquent, and be- 
loved Fisk, die ? His biographer, in speak- 
ing of his death, says, '' O what a death 
was that! No powers of mine are ade- 
quate to do it justice. So calm, so sub- 
lime, so patient, so triumphant; since it 
must take place, it was worth a lifetime 
to witness it. When it was announced 
to him that there was no hope of his re- 
covering, he was perfectly calm, observing, 
' Death had no terrors to him ;' and began 
to arrange his temporal affairs, as if only 
preparing for a pleasant journey. While 
all around were drowned in sorrow, he 
alone was calm, serene, and happy. He 
was Dr. Fisk to the last. There was no 
falling off from his dignity, no obscuring 



92 DYING HOURS. 

of his excellences. On the contrary, every 
virtue, every trait, seemed to acquire new 
lustre — increasing radiance : 

' Thus while the veil of flesh decay'd, 
His beauties brighten'd through the shade ; 
Charms which his lowly heart conceal'd, 
In nature's weakness w^ere reveal'd.' 

" His sufferings were extreme for four- 
teen days before his death, in consequence 
of obstructed respiration, but no murmur 
was heard from his lips. Patience in him 
had ' its perfect work.' His humility was 
remarkable. He said, ' I feel that I am a 
sinner saved by grace, and if I get to 
heaven I shall have as much reason to 
sing that song as any there.' He trusted 
alone in the merits of the atoning Lamb 
for salvation. He said, ' Jesus ! O lovely 
name ! No name so charming ! He saves 
his people from their sins ! I am a sinner ; 
therefore the name of Jesus suits me best! 
My soul is centred in the love of God in 
Christ Jesus.' Speaking of his confidence 
in the truths of the Bible, he said, ' They 
are God's truths, and will bear the light of 
eternity .... Vain reasoners tell us the body 



DYING HOURS. 93 

and soul will go down into the dust to- 
gether. But it is not so. So far from any- 
body pressing my soul down to the dust, 
I feel as if my soul had almost power to 
raise my body upward and bear it away. 
And it will at last by the power of God 
effectually bear it to heaven : for its at- 
tractions are thitherward.' On one occa- 
sion, after being replaced in his chair, be- 
ing unable to lie down, he said, ' From 
the chair to the throne!' At one time, 
when he seemed about expiring, he said, 
' I believe I am going ;' and in a few 
minutes said, 

* There is my home and portion fair, 
My treasure and my friends are there ; 

— some of them, at least, and the rest are 
on their way.' " 

" Two days before he breathed his last," 
says Dr. Holdich, " I was conversing with 
him as to his prospects of the future. He 
was, as usual, full of peace and tranquil 
hope. He was suffering severely from his 
agonizing weariness and difficult respira- 
tion. I observed that it was a great conso- 
lation to know that these distresses could 



94: DYING HOURS. 

not last for ever : that a rest remains for 
the people of God, where the wicked cease 
from troubling, and the weary are at rest. 
He responded with peculiar emphasis^ 
' Bless God for that !' The next day, on 
entering his room, I found him lethargic. 
Consciousness was ebbing fast away. It 
was difficult to rouse him so as to fix his 
attention. Nevertheless, I went up to him, 
and putting my hand in his, said, ' I have 
come to see you, sir, once more. Do you 
know me V With his dying hands he 
faintly grasped mine, and distinctly whis- 
pered, ' Yes, — glorious hope ! ' These 
were the last words I heard him speak. 
I believe they were the last he consciously 
uttered. He was fast sinking into a state 
of coma, from which his spirit was not 
aroused until it awoke replumed and glo- 
rified in the celestial world. And though 
the death-struggle was terrible, yet that 
purified spirit seemed to leave behind it 
the stamp of its own glorious destiny. 
He that beheld that corpse in the habili- 
ments of the grave would say, ' That was 
the casket of a splendid jewel !' — so much 



DYING HOURS. 95 

did it seem to smile upon the occupant 
which had gone to take possession of a 
nobler house above. The very happiness 
of heaven seemed to be reflected in the 
countenance of the dead." 

The memory of Fisk still lives in the 
hearts of thousands. May we meet him 
in the " better land !" 



3o\)n Wxckxm. 

The Rev. John Dickins was a native of 
England, born and educated in the city of 
London. He united with the Methodists 
in the United States in 1774, and was ad- 
mitted as a preacher among them in 1777. 
He traveled extensively in Virginia and 
North Carolina during the American revo- 
lution. On the return of peace he was 
stationed for some years in the city of 
New- York. For several years he superin- 
tended the book business of the Methodist 
societies, sending out into every state of 
the Union many thousands of volumes on 
experimental and practical religion. 



96 DYING HOURS. 

He was a good scholar, a sound and 
clear reasoner, and a plain, practical 
preacher. He died in Philadelphia of the 
malignant fever, Sept. 27, 1798, in the 
fifty-second year of his age. The fever of 
which he died, became somewhat preva- 
lent in the city, which led many to leave 
it ; but he resolved on a different course, 
as appears from the following letter, ad- 
dressed to Bishop Asbury : — 

" My much - ESTEEMED FrIEND AND 

Brother, — I sit down to write as in the 
jaws of death : whether Providence may 
permit me to see your face again in the 
flesh I know not. But if not, I hope, 
through abundant mercy, we shall meet 
in the presence of God. I am truly con- 
scious that I am an unprofitable, a very 
unprofitable^ servant ; but I think my heart 
condemns me not ; and, therefore, I have 
confidence toward God. Perhaps I might 
have left the city, as most of my friends 
and brethren have done ; but when I 
thought of such a thing my mind recurred 
to that Providence which has done so 
much for me, a poor worm, that I was 



DYING HOURS. 97 

afraid of indulging any distrust. So I 
commit myself and family into the hands 
of God, for life or death." 

It is said, that " on his tomb might be 
engraved, and over his sleeping ashes 
with truth be pronounced. Here lies 

ONE, WHO, IN THE CAUSE OF GoD, NEVER 
FEARED OR FLATTERED MAN !'' 

This faithful Christian and minister 
closed life in great triumph, as appears 
from a letter written by his widow, ad- 
dressed to Bishop Asbury, bearing date 
October 15th, 1798 :— 

" O the precious memory of my dear 
husband will be preaching to me as long 
as I live. I believe him to have been one 
of the most upright and holy men, for 
twenty years past, that has lived. Indeed 
he was a light to those that knew him. 
Never, never let any reflect upon him for 
staying in the city at this awful time ; for 
he could not leave it ; and the Lord water- 
ed his soul with divine comfort. With 
what composure did he receive the stroke 
at the hand of his God ! 

" On the first day of his sickness, about 
7 



98 DYING HOURS. 

three hours after he was taken, he called 
me to his bedside. ' My dear,' said he, 
* I am^ very ill ; but I entreat you, in the 
most earnest manner, not to be the least 
discomposed or uneasy. Tell the chil- 
dren I beg of them not to be uneasy, for 
divine Wisdom cannot err. Glory be to 
God, I can rejoice in his will, whether for 
life or death ! I know all is well. Glory 
be to Jesus I I hang upon thee ! Glory 
be to thee, O my God ! I have made it 
my constant business, in my feeble man- 
ner, to please thee ; and now, O God, thou 
dost comfort me!' Clasping his hands 
together, with tears running down his 
cheeks, crying, ' Glory be to God! Glory, 
glory be to God ! My soul now enjoys 
such sweet communion with him, that I 
would not give it for all the world ! 
Glory be to Jesus! I have not felt so 
much for seven years. Love him ; trust 
him ; praise !' " 



DYING HOUKS. 99 



The Rev. Jesse Lee, a man of precious 
memory, was born in Virginia, in 1758 ; 
was brought to a knowledge of the truth 
in his fifteenth year; and joined the Me- 
thodist ministry in 1783. He was among 
the first Methodist ministers in the coun- 
try : he traveled extensively, preaching 
the gospel as he went, " the Lord working 
with him by signs following." He first 
introduced Methodism into New-England, 
and in other parts of the United States. 
His labors and sufferings were great, but 
he met them cheerfully and patiently. Op- 
position and persecution attended him at 
almost every step, but he was just the man 
to meeet them. Firm and zealous, with 
his eye fixed on duty, he could surmount 
obstacles and endure discouragements. 
He confidently expected success, and suc- 
cess was his ! Few, in any age, have 
turned more " to righteousness." He was 
a man of rare talents, of native genius, of 
ready perception, and of indomitable per- 



100 DYING HOURS. 

severance. His name is imperishably 
written wherever Methodism is known in 
this country. He has been styled, The 
Apostle of Methodism in Neiv-England, 

His death took place Sept. 12, 1816, in 
Hillsborough, on the Eastern Shore of 
Maryland. He died rather suddenly, yet 
full of hope. Most of the time, during 
his short sickness, his mind was in ecsta- 
sies. Glory appeared in view. On one 
occasion he said, " Glory ! glory ! glory ! 
Hallelujah! Jesus reigns!' At another 
time he requested that a letter might be 
written to his brother, ''to let him know 
that he died happy in the Lord." He took 
an affectionate leave of all present, and re- 
quested them to pray — it was a solemn 
season — soon after which, " without any 
signs of distress, but with the utmost tran- 
quillity of mind, his spirit took its flight to 
the regions of the blessed." So ended the 
life of one whose memory is loved on 
earth, and will be for ever cherished in 
heaven. 



i 



DYING HOURS. 101 



Jflxcl)arir ^ookier. 

Richard Hooker was born near Exeter, 
England, in 1553. " He possessed great 
learning and sound judgment ; and dis- 
tinguished himself by a celebrated work, 
entitled, ' The Laws of Ecclesiastical 
Polity.' He was a meek and pious man, 
and spent his days in laboring to promote 
the glory of his Creator, and the happi- 
ness of men." 

He died in the forty-seventh year of his 
age. A short time before his departure 
he said, " I have lived to see that this 
world is full of perturbation ; and I have 
been long preparing to leave it, and gather- 
ing comfort for the awful hour of making 
up my account with God, which I now 
apprehend to be near. And I have, by 
his grace, loved him in my youth, and 
feared him in my age ; and labored to 
have a conscience void of offense toward 
Him, and toward all men." At another 
time he said, " God hath heard my daily 
petition ; for I am at peace with all men, 



102 DYING HOURS. 

and he is at peace with me. From this 
blessed assm-ance I feel that inward joy 
which the world can neither give nor take 
from me. My conscience beareth me 
this witness ; and this witness makes the 
thoughts of death joyful. I could wish to 
live to do the church more service; but I 
cannot hope for it ; for my days are past 
as a shadow that returns not." Shortly 
after uttering these expressions he went 
home to God. " Blessed are the dead 
who die in the Lord !" " It shall be well 
with the righteous." 



George Villiers, duke of Buckingham, 
is said to have been a man of great wit, 
and the richest man at the court of 
Charles 11. A short time before his death 
he wrote the following letter to Dr. Bar- 
low : — 

" Dear Doctor, — I am always looking 
upon you as a man of true virtue ; I know 
you to be a person of sound judgment. 



DYING HOURS. 103 

For, however I may act in opposition to 
the principles of religion, or the dictates 
of reason, I can honestly assure you, I 
had always the highest veneration for both. 
The world and I may shake hands, for I 
dare affirm we are heartily weary of each 
other. O, doctor, what a prodigal have I 
been of the most valuable of all posses- 
sions — time ! I have squandered it away 
with a persuasion it was lasting ; and now, 
when a few days would be worth a heca- 
tomb of worlds, I cannot flatter myself 
with the prospect of half a dozen hours. 

" How despicable is that man who never 
prays to God but in the time of his dis- 
tress ! In what manner can he supplicate 
that omnipotent Being in his affliction 
with reverence, whom, in the tide of his 
prosperity, he never remembered with 
dread ? Do not brand me with infidelity, 
when I tell you I am almost ashamed to 
offer up my petitions to the throne of 
grace ; or of imploring that divine mercy 
in the next world, which I have so scan- 
dalously abused in this. Shall ingratitude 
to man be looked on as the blackest of 



104 DYING HOURS. 

crimes, and not ingratitude to God ? Shall 
an insult offered to the king be looked on 
in the most offensive light ; and yet no no- 
tice taken when the King of kings is treat- 
ed with indignity and disrespect ? 

" The companions of my former liber- 
tinism would scarce believe their eyes, 
were you to show them this epistle. They 
would laugh at me as a dreaming enthu- 
siast, or pity me as a timorous wretch, who 
was shocked at the appearance of futurity. 
They are more entitled to my pity than 
my resentment. A future state may well 
strike terror into any man w^ho has not 
acted well in this life; and he must have 
an uncommon share of courage, indeed, 
W'ho does not shrink at the presence of 
God. 

" You see, my dear doctor, the appre- 
hensions of death will soon bring the most 
profligate to a proper use of their under- 
standing. I am haunted by remorse, de- 
spised by my acquaintance, and, I fear, 
forsaken by my God. There is nothing 
so dangerous, my dear doctor, as extraor- 
dinary abilities. I cannot be accused of 



DYING HOURS. 105 

vanity now, by being sensible that I was 
once possessed of uncommon qualifica- 
tions; as I sincerely regret that I was ever 
blessed with any at all. My rank in life 
made these accomplishments still more 
conspicuous ; and, fascinated with the 
general applause which they procured, I 
never considered about the proper means 
by which they should be displayed. Hence, 
to purchase a smile from a blockhead 
whom I despised, I have frequently treated 
the virtuous with disrespect ; and sported 
with the holy name of Heaven to obtain a 
laugh from a parcel of fools, who were 
entitled to nothing but my contempt. 
Your men of wit, my dear doctor, look on 
themselves as discharged from the duties 
of religion ; and confine the doctrines of 
the gospel to people of meaner understand- 
ings; and look on that man to be of a 
narrow genius who studies to be good. 
What a pity that the holy writings are not 
made the criterion of true judgment! 
Favor me, dear doctor, with a visit as soon 
as possible. Writing to you gives me 
some ease. I am of opinion this is the 



106 DYING HOUKS. 

last visit I shall ever solicit from you. My 
distemper is powerful. Come and pray 
for the departing spirit of the unhappy 

"Buckingham." 

" Surely it shall be ill with the wicked, 
for the reward of his hands shall be given 
him !" Contrast the death of Fisk, Dick- 
ins, Lee, and Hooker, with that of Vil- 
liers, and then we ask, Would you die the 
death of a libertine ? 



Eex). loljn 0timmtrfidir 

Was born at Preston, England, January 
31, 1798 ; was converted to God at the 
age of twenty-one, and entered the Me- 
thodist ministry in 1818, when twenty-two 
years of age. He early attracted attention 
as a public speaker; multitudes would 
flock to hear him where it was known he 
was to speak. He landed in this country- 
March 17, 1821, and immediately entered 
upon his ministerial labors. His pulpit 



DYING HOURS. 107 

oratory soon called out thousands to hear 
him ; and he was sent for to deliver ad- 
dresses before many of the different be- 
nevolent societies of the country. 

Says one, who knew him well, " Soon 
after he was engaged in his Master's vine- 
yard, a correspondence between us corn- 
commenced, from which I learned, that 
incessant demands were made upon the 
time and services of this incomparable 
youth; for quickly his 'praise was in all 
the churches.' Indeed, so numerous and 
pressing were the invitations from all quar- 
ters, that my fears were soon excited, lest 
his feeble tenement should early fall be- 
neath the weight of his abundant labors. 
For while the listening multitudes were 
charmed and transported with the exhibi- 
tion and development of such extraor- 
dinary powers, they apparently forgot that 
the treasure was deposited in an 'earthen 
vessel;' that so rich and rare a jewel was 
encased in so frail a casket." 

His preaching was often very powerful : 
his eloquence at times was overwhelming. 



108 DYING HOURS. 

The effect it sometimes produced is thus 
described by Mr. W. B. Tappan : — 

*' I SAW the evangelist of God ascend 
The holy place. He stood in the beauty 
Of meekness. He spoke, and on my heart 
Fell accents glowing with the prophet's fire. 
I heard thee, mighty one ! and was afraid, 
Yea, trembling, listen'd ; for methought no voice 
Of mortal mold could thrill my bosom thus. 
O, sweet as angels' music were the tones 
That breathed their Gilead on the wounded heart ; 
Strengthen'd the weary — bade the broken come 
To Siloa's fountain, and in faith be whole. 
I wept o'er blighted hopes ; but thou didst draw, 
A willing captive, my admiring soul 
With thee, to brighter regions, where the dream 
Of full fruition lives, nor is unreal. 
I feared death — but thou didst deck the foe 
In lovely garb ; with softest beauty clad, 
I saw him beckoning to the narrow house 
Of rest, where spicy odors balm the air, 
And resurrection's halo crowns the dead. 
God speed thee, favor'd one ! Thy diadem 
Is wreathed of gentleness, and thick bestrewn 
With pearls of nature's forming — they are tears, 
Yea, tears of rapture, holy, and untold." 

John Summerfield will never be for- 
gotten. He has left imperishable traces 
of his piety and labors on earth — traces 
which will be seen and admired by all 



DYING HOURS. 109 

coming generations — and has gone to shine 
as a star of the first magnitude in the hea- 
venly firmament. He fell in the midst of 
his^days — at an early age ; but his " end 
was peace." No one can read the ex- 
pressions which fell from his dying lips, 
without seeing exhibited the power of the 
Christian religion to comfort and sustain 
in nature's last conflict. During his final 
sickness the divine glory shone around 
him, and his mind, most of the time, was 
occupied with heavenly things. About 
ten days before his death he was visited 
by Bishop Soule, who said to him, " I trust, 
John, all is peace." He replied, ''^ I have 
a hope of which I trust I need not be 
ashamed,'^^ After prayer by the bishop, 
he said, "Bless the Lord; all within me 
shouts his praise :" and added, " great is 
the weakness of my body." The bishop 
observed, " Well, my dear brother, you 
have been doing the will of the Lord, now 
you are suffering ; so that in doing and 
suffering you are serving the Lord." To 
which he replied, " I bless God! the will 
of the Lord be done ;" and then said, 



110 DYING HOURS. 

' Bishop, farewell ! if I do not meet you 
again on earth, meet me in heaven !" 

At another time he requested that no 
'anodyne might be administered when it 
appeared the time of his dissolution was 
approaching. " Administer nothing," said 
he, " that will create stupor, as I wish to 
be perfectly collected^ so that I may have 
an unclouded vieiv^ " O !" said he, " I 
fear not so much the consequences of death, 
but nature's last struggle : flesh shrinks 
when we contemplate that. When the 
spirit is separated from the body, it stands, 
after the dis\odgment,trembling^nd quiver- 
ing. O ! it is that, it is that convulsive 
struggle, which harasses the mind !" On 
being told there would be grace sufficient, 
he replied, " Well — yes — well — all is 
ivelV^ A short time before he died he 
said, " I doubt not but many will expect a 
dying testimony, but I know not how this 
may be with me : I would, however, give 
the answer of Whitefield to a female friend ; 
when she asked him what his dying testi- 
mony would be, Whitefield replied, he had 
preached Christ, a living testimony^ He 



DYING HOURS. Ill 

expired without a groan or struggle, June 
13, 1825. 

Thus died the eloquent Summerfield : 
" A man," says his biographer, " whose 
name is not only written in the Lamb's 
book of life," and his piety recorded on 
high ; but one, the fragrant memorial of 
whose virtues deserves to be cherished by 
the church below, as exhibiting in a high 
degree the spirit which characterized his 
evangelical namesake, mentioned in the 
Gospel — even " that other disciple whom 
Jesus loved." 



" If ever Christianity," says Robert Hall, 
" appears in its power, it is when it erects 
its trophies on the tomb ; when it takes up 
its votaries where the world leaves them, 
and fills the breast with immortal hopes in 
dying moments." The truth of this pas- 
sage is seen in the death of Edward Hyde. 
He was born in Norwich, Conn., and 
in the days of youth became a subject of 



112 DYING HOURS. 

converting grace. In early life he entered 
the Methodist ministry, and to his holy 
calling he devoted all his powers. Nor 
did he labor in vain. Many, through his 
instrumentality, were brought to a know- 
ledge of the truth. 

Being unable, by ill health, to perform, to 
a great extent, his ministerial duties, and 
desiring still to be useful, he became 
steward in the Wesleyan Academy, Wil- 
braham, Mass., where he continued until 
death closed his earthly career. He met 
the "king of terrors'' with much tranquil- 
lity and Christian triumph. He rejoiced 
that his end had come. He seemed to 
realize the sentiment of the poet, — 

*' I would not live alway : no, welcome the tomb, 
Since Jesus has laid there I dread not its gloom ; 
There sweet be my rest, till he bid me arise. 
To hail him in triumph, descending the skies." 

A short time before his departure, the 
students of the Academy entered his room 
to receive the dying counsels of one whom 
they all regarded as a father. And what 
a scene ! About two hundred youths now 
gathered round the dying saint, and on 



DYING HOURS. 113 

him they were to look for the last time. 
The scene was affecting beyond descrip- 
tion. They were faithfully exhorted to 
become Christians in the days of their 
youth. While prayer was offered, and 
several united in singing an appropriate 
hymn, the presence and glory of the Lord 
filled the room. Every heart felt; tears 
flowed freely ; while many rejoiced greatly 
for the divine presence that was there re- 
alized. It was a memorable scene ! Many 
were there taught " how a Christian can die." 

A minister who called to see him a few 
hours before he died, writes thus : — " That 
man of blessed memory, Edward Hyde, 
was well known in New-England. I was 
with him but thirty-six hours before he 
died. He was much emaciated, and as 
weak as an infant ; but he was ripe for 
heaven ! Holiness was his theme in life, 
his theme in death ; and holiness will be 
his theme for ever. 

" As I opened the door and cast my eye 
upon him, without waiting for me to reach 
his bedside, he exclaimed, ' I am stand- 
ing on the banks of Jordan, and waiting 



114 DYING HOURS. 

for a passage.' ' I thought,' said he, af- 
ter a little pause, ' I should have gone 
three days ago,' alluding to an ill turn 
which he then had, when he and his 
friends thought he was dying ; ' but I am 
yet here : but within three days more I 
expect to be in glory.' He then said, ' I 
have solid peace;' and added, ' The doc- 
trines which I have believed and preached 
for many years are now my support.' 
We joined in singing those beautiful lines 
of Watts :" — 

" Jesus, the visions of thy face 
Have overpowering charms ; 
Scarce shall I feel death's cold embrace, 
If Christ be in my arms. 

" Then while you hear my heart-strings break, 
How sweet the minutes roll, 
A mortal paleness on my cheek, 
But glory in my soul. 

" Death cannot make my soul afraid. 
If God be with me there ; 
Soft as the passage through the shade. 
And all the prospect fair. 

" O could I make my fears remove, 
These gloomy fears that rise. 
And view the Canaan which I love, 
With unbeclouded eyes : 



DYING HOURS. 115 

" Clasp'd in my heavenly Father's arms, 
I could forget my breath ; 
And lose my life amid the charms 
Of so divine a death." 

" While we sung these lines, and united 
in prayer for the last time, it seemed that 
the room was filled with the glory of God, 
Never shall I forget that hour. I truly 
felt that 

* The chamber where the good man meets his fate 
Is privileged above the common v^alks of virtuous life, 
Quite in the verge of heaven.'" 

His last words were, " The chariot is 
come, and I must go." 

*' O may I triumph so 

When all my warfare 's past. 
And, dying, find my latest foe 
Under my feet at last." 



Was received as a preacher among the 
Methodists in 1799, and died in Augusta, 
Georgia, May 3d, 1818. He united with 
the New- England Conference, and labor- 



116 DYING HOURS. 

ed in various parts of New-England with 
much success. Revivals generally attend- 
ed his labors. In 1817 his health rapidly- 
declined, and he was advised by his phy- 
sicians to try the effect of a southern cli- 
mate. Accordingly, he proceeded as far 
as Augusta, where he terminated his la- 
bors on earth. 

His last hours are thus described by Rev. 
S. Dunwody, preacher in charge at that 
time of the Methodist church in Augusta: 
—"I found him, April 26, 1818, much 
weaker in body than formerly. He re- 
quested me to ask the prayers of the church 
in his behalf, that he might be more abun- 
dantly filled with the fullness of God. On 
Monday afternoon he observed that he 
had a calm confidence in God; but not 
such a sense of the divine fullness as he 
wished. In the mean time his bodily 
strength was so far exhausted that he could 
scarcely speak above a whisper: about 
sunset he obtained an uncommon mani- 
festation of divine love. He broke out in 
praising God in such a manner as aston- 
ished all around him ; his strength of voice 



DYING HOURS. 117 

was increased so as to be heard all over 
the house. He called upon us all to help 
him praise God, and sent for some more 
of the brethren to come and see the happy 
state of his mind. ' This,' said he, ' is 
worth praying for.' One of his expres- 
sions was, 'If this be dying-, it is very 
pleasant dying,'' To a number of us, who 
stood round his bedside, he said, he would 
not exchange his situation for the healthi- 
est among us. Sometimes he would hold 
up his hands, and say he could see the 
angels and hear them sing, and that he 
could see the crown of glory reached out 
to him. He continued in these transports 
of joy for three hours or more ; his pains 
then became violent, and we all thought 
that his end was fast approaching. He 
seemed himself to be in raptures of joy at 
the thought of a speedy departure ; and 
finding his pains subside, he seemed dis- 
appointed, and said he hoped to have 
been in heaven. Next morning he asked 
the time of day, and on being told it was 
half-past eight o'clock, he said he hoped to 
be in heaven by twelve. His life, how- 



118 DYING HOURS. 

ever, was prolonged a few days more. He 
afterward observed that possibly he was 
too anxious to be gone, and that it was 
best calmly to await the event of the di- 
vine will. His weakness continued to in- 
crease. Feeling himself drawing very near 
eternity, he was heard to say, ' O the pain, 
the bliss of dying!' and then, in a few 
minutes, his happy spirit took its flight to 
that rest that remaineth for the people of 
God." 



€arl of Cl)e0t£rfielir. 

The earl of Chesterfield was one of 
the most accomplished scholars of his age. 
He sought for all the pleasures of the 
world, and he informs us that he enjoyed 
them. But he lived and died like a fool. 
Though learned, polite, and witty, he was 
full of deceit and opposition to God. He 
says : — 

" My reason tells me, that I should wish 
for the end of it [life ;] but instinct, often 
stronger than reason, and perhaps oftener 



DYING HOURS. 119 

in the right, makes me take all proper me- 
thods to put it off. This innate sentiment 
alone makes me bear life with patience ! 
For, I assure you, I have no further hope ; 
but, on the contrary, many fears, from it." 
Poor man ! Is this all the comfort thou 
hast derived from all thy accomplishments ? 
What a confession for a deathbed ! He 
adds, " I can hardly persuade myself that 
all that frivolous hurry and bustle, and all 
the pleasures of the world, had any reality; 
but they seem to have been the dreams of 
restless nights." Ah! they can render no 
support to the dying soul. They truly now 
appear like " dreams !" Who would spend 
life in acquiring those things, which, in a 
dying hour, appear like the " dreams of 
restless nights ?" " O that men were 



120 DTING HOURS. 



|)cUr Wtan. 

DEATH OF A HYPOCRITE. 

Peter Dean was a native of London, and 
for several years resided with the rector of 
Berwick, and appeared to be deeply pious. 
He was a preacher in the Methodist con- 
nection a short time. He married a per- 
son of considerable property, and settled in 
business in London. 

"When this poor, unhappy man, thought 
himself on the verge of eternity, and the 
king of terrors stared him in the face, he 
confessed that he had been influenced by 
no other motive, nor had he any other end 
in view, in becoming an itinerant preacher, 
than to obtain a rich wife! 'And,' he 
added, ' the Lord has given me my de- 
sire, and his curse with it ; and now I am 
ruined for eve?' P From that time he re- 
fused to be comforted, and would take 
neither food nor medicine. He abandoned 
himself to black despair, and seemed re- 
solved to die ! For some time before his 



DYING HOURS. 121 

death his countenance would suddenly 
change, and be very horrid to look upon ; 
he himself was conscious of it, and some- 
times would go to the glass, and would 
then turn and say to his wife, ' Noiv look 
at me ; noiv will you believe ?' A few 
days before he died, his wife and a deeply 
pious person were sitting with him in his 
room, when they heard something beat 
him violently on the breast : they heard the 
blows, but saw nothing ! He immediately 
cried out, as if in great agony, and upon 
examination they found his breast quite 
black with the strokes he had received ! 
After this, he one day feigned himself 
asleep, and Mrs. D. and her companion, 
that he might not be disturbed, left the 
room. Perceiving that they were gone, he 
put forth all his strength, and rolled him- 
self headlong on the floor. On hearing 
the noise they instantly returned, and, 
awful to relate, found him dead !" How 
true it is, that " the wicked are driven away 
in their wickedness ?" 



122 DYING HOURS. 



SDmtl) of a ^oitng Ulan, 

A NEGLECTER OF SALVATION. 

In the summer of 1817 a camp meeting 
was held in East Hartford, Connecticut, 
(now called Manchester.) About eight 
thousand people were present, and about 
one hundred converted to God. The 
Rev. D. Dorchester, in giving an account 
of the meeting, says : " There is one cir- 
cumstance connected with the meeting, 
which, if noticed, may be useful. 

u D ^ a young man, about eighteen 

years of age, attended the meeting, and on 
Sunday evening, while the Lord wrought 
powerfully among the people, some of his 
young associates sought and found the 

Saviour. D felt the need of religion, 

and the preachers and friends endeavored 
to prevail with him to seek the salvation 
of his soul : the subject was urged by en- 
treaties, expostulations, and tears ; but all 
in vain ! his reply to them all was, ' I will 
wait till I get home.' He started for home 



DYING HOURS. 123 

with his mother in usual health. At about 
five o'clock, P. M., he arrived within a 
few yards of his father's house, when sud- 
denly springing from the wagon, he ex- 
claimed, ^ Mother, I am dying; I am dy- 
ing: I shall not live one hour! O that I 
had sought religion at the camp meeting !' 
A physician was called immediately ; but 
vain was the help of man : his flesh soon 
assumed a purple hue ; death had planted 
the arrow that no human hand could ex- 
tract; and his friends could only wait with 
awful anxiety, and hear, with the most 
painful sensations, the regrets that he ut- 
tered, till the next day, at about eight 
o'clock, P. M., when he breathed his last. 
But though dead, he utters an awful voice! 
' Procrastination is the thief of time,' and 
the murderer of precious souls. Let me 
'run and speak to that young man,' and 
say, ' Behold, now is the accepted time ; 
behold, now is the day of salvation !' " 



124 DYING HOURS. 



Btat\) of dlljloe. 

The following account of the death of a 
young lady, should awaken a desire in 
every youth to immediately prepare for the 
dying hour : — 

" Before us lay the struggling, agoniz- 
ing, dying Chloe, inwardly burning to 
death with the raging fires of inflamma- 
tion ; her mind excited to the highest de- 
gree of anxiety in view of the terrors of 
approaching death ; while she felt the hor- 
rible consciousness of being unprepared 
for the solemn exchange of worlds. The 
minister had prayed, but no relief was 
found. The mother had been entreated to 
pray ; but overflowing tears, from a soul 
full of distress and terror, comprised all the 
assistance she could afford to a child sinking 
in despair. The attendants were weep- 
ing, but none of them could help the dying 
girl. And, what was very remarkable, she 
made no attempts to pray for herself, while 
her cries for prayer to save her from hell 
were incessant. 



DYING HOURS. 125 

" Believing that death was about to cut 
short his work, I proposed to her the fol- 
lowing question :— ' Chloe, will you now 
accept of the Lord Jesus Christ as your 
only Saviour from sin and hell, and sub- 
mit your soul into his hands for salva- 
tion V With a faltering voice she answer- 
ed, 'No^ I cannot P Astonished at the an- 
swer, I rejoined once more by inquiring, 
' Why are you not willing, and why can 
you not NOW with your dying breath ac- 
cept of Christ for salvation V 

" With evident appearance of being in 
full possession of her rational powers, but 
with a slill more feeble and tremulous ar- 
ticulation, looking me full in the face, she 
answered, ' It is too late !' 

" These were her dying words. Not 
another word was spoken to her. Not 
another syllable did she attempt to utter. 
She shuddered, groaned, gasped, and 
ceased to breathe. Her immortal spirit 
took its flight in less than two hours after 
I first entered the room." 

Will any, who read this little volume, 
neglect a preparation for eternity, and die 



126 DYING HOURS. 

as did this young lady? O, could she 
speak to you to-day, she would say, " Pre- 
pare to meet thy God !" Neglect not this 
preparation till it is too late ! 



liet). Hob^rt Bolton 

Died December 17th, 1631, aged fifty-nine 
years. He was a faithful and devoted 
minister of Christ. His last illness was 
painful and protracted, but he was abund- 
antly sustained. He met the last foe w^th 
Christian fortitude. Multitudes came to 
see him " depart." One of his parishion- 
ers wished him to describe the comforts he 
found in trusting in the Redeemer. ''Alas !'' 
said he, " do you look for that of me now, 
that want breath and power to speak ? I 
have told you enough in my lifetime ; but 
to give you satisfaction, I am, by the won- 
derful mercies of God, as full of comfort 
as my heart can hold, and feel nothing in 
my soul but Christ, with whom I heartily 
desire to be." Taking leave of all, he died 
rejoicing in hope. 



DYING HOURS. 127 



0ir JUattljeu) j^ak, 

Lord chief justice of England, was born 
in 1609. Few have done more for the 
good of the world than this great man. 
He manifested great submission to God's 
will in his last moments. " When his 
voice was so sunk that it could not be 
heard, his friends perceived, by the almost 
constant lifting up of his eyes and hands, 
that he was still aspiring toward that bless- 
ed state, of which he was now to be 
speedily possessed. He breathed out his 
soul in peace." 



3o\)n Cocke, 

A CELEBRATED philosopher, and one of 
the greatest men that England ever pro- 
duced, was born in the year 1632. He 
was firmly attached to the Christian reli- 
gion, and was zealous in promoting it. 
He studied the Bible with close attention. 
As his dissolution drew near, he showed 



128 DYING HOURS. 

that he was fully prepared to meet it. The 
day he died, he advised all about him to 
read the Scriptures. When about to ex- 
pire, he spoke of the goodness of God: 
^' he especially exalted the care which God 
showed to man in justifying him by faith 
in Jesus Christ; and, in particuleir, return- 
ed God thanks for having blessed him 
with the knowledge of the divine Sa- 



l0aac tDatt0, 

A LEARNED and eminent minister and 
poet, was born at Southampton, in 1674. 
His writings have been a great blessing to 
mankind. He died in peace in the 75th 
year of his age. Just before he expired, he 
said, in conversation with a friend, " I re- 
member an aged minister used to observe, 
that ' the most knowing and learned Chris- 
tians, when they come to die, have only 
the same plain promises of the gospel for 
their support as the common and unlearn- 
ed ;' and so I find it. It is the plain pro- 



DYING HOURS. 129 

mises of the gospel that are my support ; 
and I bless God, they are plain promises, 
that do not require much labor and pains 
to understand them." 



A PIOUS and ingenious minister, and a 
popular writer, was born in 1714. His 
works, entitled " Meditations among the 
Tombs," and "Reflections in a Flower 
Garden," have been much admired, and 
extensively read. He died in 1758, aged 
forty-four years. As death drew near, he 
said, " Here is the treasure of the Chris- 
tian. Death is reckoned in this inventory ; 
and a noble treasure it is. How thankful 
I am for death, as it is the passage through 
which I go to the Lord and Giver of 
eternal life ! These light afflictions are but 
for a moment, and then comes an eternal 
weight of glory. O I welcome, welcome, 
death ! Thou mayest well be reckoned 
among the treasures of the Christian. To 
live is Christ, but to die is gain." 
9 



130 DYING HOURS. 



Het). Iol)n Knojr, 

The great Scotch reformer, was born at 
Giffard, Scotland, in 1505. He was a man 
of strong faith, and fearlessly performed 
what he considered his duty. When his 
body was laid in the grave, the regent pro- 
nounced his eulogium in these words : — 
" There lies he who never feared the face 
of man." He met death with great compo- 
sure. At one time he said, " Come, Lord 
Jesus ! sweet Jesus, into thy hands do I 
commend my spirit." A friend prayed 
with him when near his end, and on being 
asked if he heard it, he replied, ^' Would to 
God that you had all heard those words 
with such an ear and heart as I," and 
added, " Lord Jesus, receive my spirit !" 
He then passed to his reward. 



DYING HOURS. 131 



A LEARNED minister, and known principal- 
ly by his writings in defense of Christian- 
ity, was born in Wigan, England, in 1691, 
and died in 1766, in the seventy-fiflh year 
of his age. He closed life with the fol- 
lowing words : " I give my dying testi- 
mony to the truth of Christianity. The 
promises of the gospel are my support 
and consolation. They, alone, yield me 
satisfaction in a dying hour. I am not 
afraid to die. The gospel of Christ has 
raised me above the fear of death ; for I 
know that my Redeemer liveth." 



tHet). Samuel tllalker 

Was a pious and useful minister of Christ. 
In his last hours his soul was filled with 
rapture. " I have been," said he, " upon 
the wings of the cherubim ! Heaven has 
been in a manner opened to me ! I shall 
soon be there !" He again said to a friend. 



132 DYING HOURS. 

" O, my friend, had I strength to speak I 
could tell you such news as would rejoice 
your very soul! I have had such views 
of heaven ! But I am unable to say 



The author of " The Saints' Everlasting 
Rest," was born in Rowton, England, 
Nov. 12, 1615, and died Dec. 8, 1691. 
He was faithful in life, and triumphant in 
death. When about to cross the " swell- 
ings of Jordan," he exclaimed, '' I am 
almost well !" The celebrated Gibbon 
said that " Hume died like a philosopher." 
Baxter died like a Christian ! Let me 
die like the latter ! 



H^x). ®l)oma0 Srott, 

The commentator, was born in Lincoln- 
shire, England, Feb. 16, 1747, and died 
April 16, 1821. He was pious and learn- 



DYING HOURS. 133 

ed. He exclaimed, in death, " This is 
heaven begun. Satan has attacked me ; 
but now he is vanquished." 



I 



ai)e (Karl of Hocl)e0Ur 

Was born in Oxfordshire, England, 1647. 
He was one of the greatest scholars and 
poets of his age. Falling into dissolute 
and vicious company, he soon lost all 
sense of religious restraint, and became 
corrupt in principles, and depraved in 
manners. He became an infidel by read- 
ing the writings of Hobbes. He expe- 
rienced religion at the age of thirty-one. 
In his death, when pain was excruciating, 
he said, " God's holy will be done !" He 
spent most of his time in rejoicing. A 
short time before he expired, he said, " I 
shall soon die. O how joyful ! how I long 
to die !" 



134 DYING HOURS. 



Was eminent for his piety and devotion to 
the cause of the Redeemer. To his friends 
who surrounded his deathbed, he said, 
" Come, death approaches. Let us gather 
some flowers from the Bible." Having 
spent nearly two hours in conversing upon 
the truths of the Bible, he paused, and sud- 
denly exclaimed, " What is this brightness 
which surrounds me ? Have you been 
lighting a candle ?" " No," said his at- 
tendants ; " the sun shines." Said the dy- 
ing man, " It is my blessed Saviour that 
shines." 



E^x). Hicl)arir iDatson 

Was born in Lincolnshire, England, Feb. 
22, 1781, and died Jan. 8, 1833. He early 
became a preacher among the Wesleyan 
Methodists, and became distinguished in 
his profession. He wrote several valuable 
works. For some time before he died, his 



DYING HOURS. 135 

sufferings were intense, but grace enabled 
him to triumph. When near eternity, he 
said, " The atonement is the sinner's short 
way to God. On this rock I rest — I feel 
it firm beneath my feet. O the precious 
blood of Christ ! It is all mercy. I long 
to quit this little abode — gain the wide ex- 
pause of the skies — ^rise to nobler joys, and 
see God !" 



Hex). IxantxB ^Jlaburg, 

One of the bishops of the Methodist Epis- 
copal Church, was born in Staffordshire, 
England, Aug. 20, 1745, and died in 
America, March 31, 1816, in the seventy- 
first year of his age. He was a man of 
deep piety, and greatly beloved. His la- 
bors were abundant. It is supposed that 
he preached in this country about eighteen 
thousand sermons, and traveled, chiefly on 
horseback, about one hundred and fifty 
thousand miles, and ordained not less, 
probably, than three thousand preachers. 
His death was sudden and peaceful. A 
few minutes before he died, a minister 



136 DYING HOURS. 

asked him, *'if he felt the Lord Jesus 
Christ to be precious. He seemed to exert 
all his remaining strength, and raised both 
his hands as a token of triumph." " The 
righteous have hope in their death !" 



H^D. fvztbovn (Qavxtttson 

Was born in the state of Maryland, Aug. 
15, 1752, and died Sept. 26, 1827. He 
was a faithful and laborious minister. For 
more than fifty-two yeai's he labored in 
his Master's vineyard. His dying sayings 
are numerous, showing his triumphant de- 
parture. His last sentence was, '^ Holy, 
holy, holy. Lord God almighty ! Hallelu- 
jah! Hallelujah!" Soon after, clasping 
his hands, and raising his eyes to heaven, 
he uttered, " Glory ! glory !" and then "fell 
asleep in Jesus." 



I 



DYING HOURS. 137 



A MINISTER of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church, died Oct. 2, 1839, aged twenty- 
eight years. " On being told he was dy- 
ing, he gently laid his hand on his breast, 
and, in a few moments, exclaimed, ' This 
is the most consummate state of happiness 
I ever saw. O, glory be to God !' He 
afterward talked with great composure ; 
sent his dying message to his friends, and 
said, ' I am almost in sight of the coun- 
try;' kissed his beloved wife and sweet 
little babe ; spoke concerning his funeral ; 
and went home to God." 



(KUjabetl) tUalbrtlrse, 

Connected with the Methodist Connection 
in England, and known as " The Dairy- 
man's Daughter," died in Christian tri- 
umph. " The Lord," said she, " deals 
gently with me. Thank God — victory — 



188 DYING HOURS. 

I, even I, am to be saved !" She called to 
her father, mother, and sister, and exclaim- 
ed, " I am going ! — all is well — well — 
well." 

Thus we have seen how the Christian 
dies. " O how refreshing, delightful, and 
encouraging to us, on our way to Zion, to 
perceive around us those who are ' living 
unto the Lord,' with their eyes and hearts 
fixed upon the heavenly inheritance ! And 
ah, still happier sight, and yet an awful 
rejoicing, to behold a Christian ' dying 
unto the Lord ;' to witness the triumph of 
our holy faith in nature's last hour, and 
Satan's last buffeting ; to observe the tro- 
phies of divine love adorning and cheering 
the melancholy bed — the tranquil smile, 
the unwearied trust, the patient, contented, 
thankful resignation, the uplifted hand 
and eye, the illuminated countenance, the 
peaceful spirit, all the while ready to wing 
its flight ! Go, boasted science ! go, vain 
philosophy ! and visit the deathbeds of 
your votaries ; mark well the doubts and 
fears betraying themselves under the mask 



DYING HOURS. 189 

of a bold profession ; mark the impatience 
and vexation, the present burden and mis- 
erable foreboding; go, and discover your 
infidel champions, the proud Goliaths of 
your kingdom, trembling and quailing 
under the lifted stroke of death, and de- 
spairing under the load of unforgiveness 
of sin, under the terrors of an avenging 
God ! Go to your despisers of the cruci- 
fied Jesus — to those who have been too 
wise to seek, or too busy to find him ; see 
them, as I have seen them, stretching out 
their hands in agony, and saying, ' Is there 
no one to save a fellow-creature from 
destruction V Then, when ye are sick- 
ened with such scenes, repair to the bed- 
side of a departing saint, and see how a 
Christian can die. Go, and study a lesson 
more instructive and more precious than 
all your pages of human lore and learn- 
ing ; go, and learn from a lovely example, 



140 DYING HOURS. 



.'* BLESSED ARE THE DEAD WHO DIE IN THE LORD." 

Christianity appears in its true glory in 
the comfort, support, and triumph, it af- 
fords its votaries in a dying hour. There 
it shines forth in its peculiar brightness. 
There it enables its subjects to exclaim, 
" O death, where is thy sting !" 

The dying hour is said to be an honest 
hour. It is a period in which we view 
things in their proper light. Christians, 
with the prospect of " immortality before 
them, and no longer influenced by those 
concerns and passions which obscure the 
understanding, and harden the heart, must 
be supposed to view their objects through 
a proper medium, and to speak the lan- 
guage of truth and soberness." We add 
the following sayings of dying saints to 
those already furnished : — 

" Glory to God ! Jesus smiles and bids 

* Most of these dying sayings were collected by the 
Rev. O. C. Baker. 



DYING HOURS. 141 

me come. Victory! viciory! Tell the 
preachers at conference that I died in the 
triumphs of faith ; that my last doctrine is 
free salvation." — Fletcher Harris, 

" No fear ; happy. Hail, King ! Hea- 
ven heaves in view." — Stephen Jacobs 
aged 31. 

" Glory to God ! I feel a hope that 
reaches beyond the grave. Glory to God ! 
I am more established in the doctrines I 
have preached than ever I was before." 

— William Ross, aged 36. 

" If I die I shall go to glory. There is 
victory in death, and death in victory." 

— Charles Prescott, aged 28. 

" My dear friends, I am so happy I 
know not what to do with myself. Glory, 
glory, I am happy ! My happiness is un- 
speakable ! O for more breath to praise 
my divine Master !" — Enoch Johnson. 

" Peace ! peace ! Victory ! victory ! com- 
plete victory !" — William Ormond, aged 34. 

" I am not afraid to die, if it be the will 



142 DYING HOURS. 

of God. I desire to depart and be with 
Christ; the church will sustain no loss by 
my death, for the Lord will supply my 
place with a man that will be more useful. 
Thanks be to God! through his grace I 
have continued to live and labor faithfully 
to the end. 

* Farewell ! vain world, I'm going home ; 
My Jesus smiles, and bids me come.' " 

— Nicholas Waiters^ aged 65. 

" The goodness and love of God to me 
are great and marvelous, as I go down 
the dreadful declivity of death." — George 
Dougharty. 

" The fear of death and hell is wholly 
taken away, and I have a hope of immor- 
tality." — William Keith. 

" Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ; take 
my enraptured soul away. I am not 
afraid to die. I long to be dissolved, and 
see the face of God without a dimning 
veil between. Death has lost its sting." 
— John Smithy aged 55. 

" I am going, I am going. Blessed be 
God for victory over sin, the world, and 



DYING HOURS. 143 

the devil. I have gained the victory, and 
expect my disembodied spirit will join the 
band of music above, and bear some hum- 
ble part in praising God, and stand with 
the one hundred and forty-four thousand on 
the sea of glass, to sing the song of Moses 
and the Lamb." — Abner Clarke^ aged 26, 

" O what glorious prospects lie before 
me ! Be ye clean, that bear the vessels of 
the Lord ; get all you can in the way to 
heaven. My God is mine, and I am his. 
I have been in the dark mountains, but 
King Jesus has given me complete victory. 
Glory, honor, praise, and power, be unto 
God." — George Askin, 

" Can this be dying ? I never felt so 
happy. I am free from pain, both of body 
and mind." — William S. PecCse^ aged 25. 

" Brother, heaven has come to me ; it 
is in me, and all around me. I am 
filled with God and glory." — John Shaw, 
aged 25. 

" Yesterday 1 examined myself closely, 
and I saw my way before me as clear as 
the rising sun." — Henri/ Holmes, aged 44. 



144 DYING HOURS. 

" Perfectly happy ; death is my friend. I 
live in Christ, and Christ is all to me. Fare- 
well ! farewell ! I have all I desire. Glory ! 
Hallelujah !"- Christopher Thomas^ agedZd, 

" A short time before he expired, he re- 
marked, ' I want a conductor to heaven,' 
and a moment after exclaimed, triumph- 
antly, 'I have one, a sublime one!'" — 
Liman L. Booker. 

" The religion which I have professed 
and preached has comforted me in life, 
supported me in affliction, and now ena- 
bles me to triumph in death." — Edwin 
Ray, aged 29. 

" After having preached, and dismissed 
the congregation, he sat down, being de- 
prived of the use of his right side. Two 
of the brethren went to him in the pulpit. 
As they approached, he held out his hand, 
and said, with a smile, ' Do not be alarmed, 
or affrighted ; the Lord has blessed me. I 
had as soon die here, and in this way, as 
anywhere. My soul is happy. Glory 
be to God! Hallelujah! Glory V'— Lot 
Warfield^ aged 55. 



DYING HOUKS. 145 

" Having been asked, ' Is your way- 
clear ?' he replied, ' As clear as a sun- 
beam." — William H, Stevens^ aged 30. 

" When one asked him, 'Are you afraid 
to die ?' he seemed surprised at the ques- 
tion, and said, ' Surely, you do not think 
me a hypocrite.' 'But you are really dy- 
ing,' said another. ' Then,' he replied, 
<all is v7e\Vr'— Thomas Neill, aged 27. 

" My body is in an agony of pain, but 
my soul is happy ^ happy ^ happy .'" — Chris- 
topher Frye^ aged 57. 

" I have always expected to have a rea- 
sonable degree of comfort in a dying hour, 
but I never expected to enjoy such a deep, 
settled calm, as I now feel." — Thomas D. 
Allen^ aged 34. 

" The storm of life has at length blown 
over. The last tornado has passed by. 
The victory is gained, and heaven is mine ! 
Sweet heaven of rest ! It is mine ! Hal- 
lelujah! Hallelujah! My life has been 
spent, these fifty years past, in the minis- 
try, but I do not regret it. All my suffer- 
10 



146 DYING HOURS. 

ings in that laborious employment will 
render the heaven of eternal rest the sweet- 
er." — Samuel Bebbins^ aged 68. 

" Glory, glory ! Now, brother, I am 
ready. I am ready to die or live, and suf- 
fer all the will of God. Tell my brethren 
they must be holy. Tell my brethren in 
the ministry, that, in order for success in . 
their work, they must live and preach holi- 
ness. — Ariel Fay^ aged 29. 

"All is ^eWV — Bishop MKendree, 
aged 79. 

" All is clear ! all is clear !" — Joseph Rus- 
ling^ aged 51, 

" If I die, there is not a doubt upon my 
mind but that all is safe ; my confidence is 
strong in the Lord. ' These light afflic- 
tions, which are but for a moment, will 
work out for me a far more exceeding and 
eternal weight of glory.'" — Albert G, Wick" 
ware^ aged 32. 

" Yes, I am, I am going to my home 
in heaven." — Philetus Green^ aged 32. 

" My dependence is not upon my own 



DYING HOURS. 147 

works ; it is on the rock Christ Jesus cruci- 
fied." — Nelson Reed, aged 89. 

" Tell my friends, if I die, I shall go 
straight to heaven; how beautiful! how 
glorious ! I am safe." — Elijah Steele. 

" A few days before the lamented Cook- 
man embarked in the ill-fated steamship 
President, he said to his children, ' Now, 
boys, remember if your father should sink 
in the ocean, his soul will go direct to the 
paradise of God, where you must meet 
him!'" — Charles G. Cookman, aged 41. 

" Attempting to raise himself in bed, 
and looking heavenward, he said, ' O let 
me go home.' His friends preventing his 
rising up, he submitted, and said, ' Well, 
I will go quietly and sweetly to-night.' 
It was even so." — John Rice, aged 37. 

" Being asked the state of his mind, 
' O,' said he, ' I feel like an atom floating 
upon the ocean of glory ; I shall soon pass 
away, nor scarcely know the change.' " 
— Thomas L. Young, aged 32. 

Having noticed the dying sayings of 



148 DYING HOURS. 

several Methodist preachers, we will now 
notice a few others. 

" Methinks I stand, as it were, one foot 
in heaven, and the other on earth! Me- 
thinks I hear the melody of heaven, and 
by faith I see the angels waiting to carry 
my soul to the bosom of Jesus, and I shall 
be for ever with the Lord in glory ; and 
who can but rejoice in all this?" — John 
Janeway^ aged 24. 

" I am not afraid to look death in the 
face. I can say, ^ Death, where is thy 
sting V '^—John Dodd. 

" I repent I did not do more for Him. 
O that I had the tongues of men and an- 
gels to praise him !" — Halyburton. 

He said to some friends, " You have 
been used to take notice of the sayings of 
dying men : this is mine. That a life spent 
in the service of God, and communion 
with him, is the most comfortable and 
pleasant life that any one can live in this 
world." — Mattheiv Henry, 

" O that all my brethren did know 



DYING HOURS. 149 

what a Master I have served, and what 
peace I have this day ! I shall sleep in 
Jesus ; and when I awake, I shall be satis- 
fied with his likeness." — Rutherford. 

" Lord, hold thy hand, it is enough ; 
thy servant is a clay vessel, and can hold 
no more." — John Welsh. 

"Jesus can make a dying bed 

Feel soft as downy pillows are, 
While on his breast I lean my head, 

And breathe my life out sweetly there.'* 

He repeated, " My head on Jesus' breast. 
There I breathe my life out sweetly ; O 
how sweetly! Into thy hands, O Lord, 
I commit my spirit." — Henry S. Rise. 

" Victory ! victory !" — Erskine. 

What was it that has caused so many 
to rejoice and triumph as their departure 
drew near? It was the religion of the 
Bible. It was this that enabled Erskine, 
Payson, Hyde, Fletcher, and others, to 
meet death with shoutings of victory. 
With this valuable treasure no person 
need " take a leap in the dark." It will 



150 



DTIXG HOrRS. 



light up our pathway to the grave, and 
throw a lustre around the tomb. Amid its 
brightness you will pass " through the val- 
ley and shadow of death." Infidelity leaves 
us in the dark. Shun it as you would the 
" blackness of darkness." Hobbes wished 
to « find a place at which to creep out of 
the world." Poor man ! With religion he 
might have left the world rejoicing. Bless- 
ed treasure! "Pearl of great price!" 
Reader, seek it for your portion, and it 
shall be well with you living and dying. 



THE END. 



BOOKS PUBLISHED FOR THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION 
OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH. 



ONE TALENT IMPROVED 



THE LIFE AND LABORS 



MISS SUSAN G. BOWLER, 

A LABORIOUS AND SUCCESSFUL 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL TEACHER. 

This biography has only to be read to be useful. 
Few memoirs of departed Christians are so well 
adapted to the wants of the times. 

Plain, practical, and simple, it will address 
itself to every one's comprehension and sym- 
pathies. Free from the tedium of didactic works, 
it inculcates the best of precepts, all illustrated 
by a lovely and consistent example. 

The teacher, and we might almost say the 
Christian, who does not find this a deeply- 
interesting and profitable book, will have reason 
for close heart-searchings, and for inquiring 
whether indeed he is aware of the nature and 
responsibilities of the work in which he pro- 
fesses to be engaged. 



BOOKS PUBLISHED FOR THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION 
OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH. 

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE: 

SKETCHES FROM HIS HISTORY. WRITTEN FOR 
THE YOUNG. 



No person, young or old, that takes up this 
book will wish to put it down before it is finish- 
ed ; and no reader will fail to be profited by its 
perusal. We doubt whether in the same space 
there can anywhere be found a better summary 
of the history of that wonderful man, or a clearer 
picture of the folly of his extravagant ambition, 
or the cruelties it led him to perpetrate, and of 
the downfall in w^hich it terminated. False 
views of the character of warriors and con- 
querors have ruined thousands. Need any 
other fact be stated to show the importance of 
giving the young, especially, timely and correct 
views of these characters ? 

If there is one class to whom more than 
another this book is particularly commended, ii 
is to that large class of boys, between the ages 
of five and fifteen years, who often think, and 
sometimes say, " I would like to be a soldier." 



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